


Fifth Year: We're Too Young For This

by DominusMortis



Series: Harry Potter and Why He Should Never Be Left Unsupervised [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, Dealing With Trauma, Dumbledore's Army, F/M, Growing Relationships, I didn't even cry, Injury, Issues are solved quicker, It's getting deep now, Legilimency, M/M, Minor Character Death, Occlumency, Quidditch Matches, Sexual Content, Young Love, hopefully humour, some nightmares, this took so long to write omg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:14:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 112,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26172535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DominusMortis/pseuds/DominusMortis
Summary: It's back for fifth year and Delores Umbridge is causing all hell to break loose with her bigoted ways. Meanwhile, the DA is up and running, advertising teen rebellion against a tyrannical government. Relationships flourish as love is declared and struggles ensue. There are just some things that children should never deal with and unfortunately, these kids have.Rating has been changed because of added scenes ;). Get ready for a whopper of a fic.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Remus Lupin/Sirius Black
Series: Harry Potter and Why He Should Never Be Left Unsupervised [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789387
Comments: 15
Kudos: 71





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back!!! I'm so sorry it's taken forever but I have realised that I am not as good at time management as I once thought. Sixth year is finished so I'm going to start on seventh before I post it. But enjoy this one!! I was going to put warning notes at the start of certain chapters but I think that ruins the fun. xxx

_3 July 1995_

_Dear Harry,_

_I’m sending you yet another letter because I am hopelessly bored – and Dumbledore told me not too. I honestly don’t understand why that old cod thinks he can tell me what to do; it’s the summer holidays, for Merlin’s sake! I am a free woman who will not listen to the half-mad ramblings of an old man._

_Anyway, what I really wanted to tell you was that we finally managed the Fidelius Charm on that property you knew about – you won’t remember it until the Secret Keeper tells you the location which means despite as much as I want to tell you, I can’t._

_Draco and I have been planning with Sirius again and we finally have a finished plan. Admittedly, it’s very Gryffindorish, so at least you’ll be appreciative of it. Ugh, look at us, perfectly good Slytherins implementing foolish Gryffindor behaviour just to show how much we care. Can you feel it? The immense depth of our eternal love for you? Draco was reading that over my shoulder and scoffed so loudly he nearly woke up the horrid painting that likes to throw insults at Sirius and Remus. Who knew that a pureblood painting could hold such horrendous, outdated views regarding one’s worth in society? (Please note the heavy sarcasm here. Ugh, letters are useless in portraying my eternal cynical outlook on life – additionally: your boyfriend is laughing at me and I must apologise in advance for if he is too sore to properly greet you when you finally reunite.)_

_Overall, life here is boring. The Weasleys cannot currently visit, although we’ve been hosting some interesting characters. I’ll tell you more about them whenever I can._

_Draco has already written you a letter which he will attach alongside this one. I wasn’t allowed to read it so I guess that means it’s a horribly explicit description of everything he wants you to do to him when you both are finally alone._

_~~Ow! You wanker! Leave me alone!~~ _

_He sorely misses you and wants to greet you properly when you get here. You know, on his kn –_

_~~Bastard!~~ _

_He just pushed me off the chair. I hope you’re happy, Harry. For your entertainment, I was gravely injured. My perfect complexion has been tainted by carpet burn,_ **carpet burn**!

_Oh, I should also mention that I’m using a new DictaQuill that Fred sent me. It was working perfectly until Draco entered, so I apologise for any mistakes or additions. Those are entirely Draco’s fault._

_Shut up, you hag!_

_Draco, stop shoving me! Write your own letter!_

_He’s_ my _boyfriend!_

 _Yes, well it’s_ my _turn with this quill. Go play with the moth balls or something._

_Ugh, you’re a bitch._

_I love you too!_

_Anyway, where were we? Oh yes, keep your eyes out for a package I’m sending. Remus, Draco and I have been busy working on something which I think you will find to be extremely helpful. You’ll understand when it arrives._

_I wish I could update you on more but Draco and I have been forbidden to participate in any conversations or meetings that have occurred._

_Look for my owl, Harry. We’re both thinking of you, all right? You’re not alone at that place and you won’t have to stay long. Sirius is about ready to burst a vein he’s so furious at Dumbledore._

_I hope you’ve been sleeping better. ~~I know I haven’t~~. Keep yourself busy. Walk around the neighbourhood. Maybe visit that park you mentioned in your last letter? We’ll get you out soon, I promise. Draco and I have already set up your room. (But just between us, you’re actually staying with Draco. Don’t tell anyone.)_

_Have you heard from Ron and Hermione yet? I threw Ron’s last letter out after he said that he wasn’t going to risk telling you anything – not that he knows any more than me or Draco, that is._

_I love you Harry and hope you’re doing okay._

_We’ll see you soon._

_Love, Sarah xx_

**3 July 1995**

**Harry,**

**Sarah let me attach my own letter to hers, I think she mentioned it in her letter.**

**I miss you.**

**I know you’ve only been there for a few days but that’s too many already. I’m worried about you being there alone. I wish I were there with you. Better yet, I wish you were here.**

**Despite what Sarah said in her letter (and yes I did push her off her chair for her rude words), this is not full of explicit depictions of what I want our sex life to be like. Not that we technically have a sex like…but regardless, that is not what I wanted to speak about.**

**It’s Sarah. I’m really worried about her. Her letters always make it seem as if she is fine and most days her actions match that. But I know her well enough to see her blank gaze or the way she seems to disconnect herself from the situation. She hasn’t been sleeping properly. I’ve made her stay with me each night because she wakes up from nightmares. I found out she had been using a Silencing Charm so that Sirius, Remus and I wouldn’t know.**

**I know it’s a lot to ask, but could you send her a letter? It doesn’t have to be anything specific, I just know she loves hearing about your day-to-day life. It takes away from the pain I think she’s feeling. I know you already send replies but maybe if you send daily updates? I’ve started just chattering on about everything and anything – it keeps her distracted.**

**I’m sorry to put that on you when I already know you are struggling.**

**Harry, I want you to know that we are doing everything we can to get you back here with us.**

**Yours,**

**Draco**

_5 July 1995_

_I know Draco wrote to you about me. He has a guilty feel about him whenever I mention your letters. I won’t lie to you, Harry. I’m not doing okay. Fred made me promise not to bottle it up, to tell you or Draco or Sirius or Remus or him._

_I just can’t sometimes._

_Is that selfish of me?_

_You went through so much worse and yet here I am, complaining about something you experienced ten-fold._

_I wish I had your strength sometimes._

_This letter wasn’t meant to be like this. I just wanted to let you know I woke up from a nightmare again. I made Draco sleep in his own bed tonight. Obviously, that was a mistake._

_I miss you, Harry._

_Sarah_

_8 July 1995_

_Harry James Potter!_

_A dementor attacked you! How on earth did you manage to attract a dementor?_

_We’ve changed our plans. Pack your bags. We’re getting you tomorrow or tonight, I don’t even know. We’re all furious with Dumbledore, he’s trying to keep us locked here._

_I stole something that will help us get you in._

_I’ll see you soon_

_Love, Sarah_

***

Harry sat on his rickety bed at the Dursleys house, Sarah’s most recent letter grasped in his hands. They were finally able to get him. He had spent nearly a week in the house, the memories the last few weeks spiralling through his head and causing him to wake up in the middle of night, a shout on his lips.

As much as it had hurt to read that Sarah was struggling as well, it comforted him to know he wasn’t alone. Sarah’s new Elf Owl was staring at him in a way eerily similar to its owner.

“Do you know what she stole, Sphinx?” Harry asked the bird. It, thankfully, didn’t reply and just cocked its head toward him in a predatory manner. “Never mind…”

Sarah hadn’t been specific about what time Harry would be picked up but he had already packed his trunk and personal belongings.

After the dementors had attacked him and his cousin Dudley the day before, Harry had been a constant state of horrified shock. He had no idea how two dementors had been in Little Whinging. All he knew was that, because he had used the Patronus Charm in front of a muggle, he was sentenced to a hearing in August to determine if he would be expelled from Hogwarts or not.

Thankfully, Sarah, Sirius and Draco had cracked and decided to come get him. There was no way he would last spending any more with his horrible relatives, even if they had left him alone the past few days.

The worst thing were the nightmares. Every night, Harry dreamt of the graveyard and the flash of green light which had killed Cedric. He had been hoping to talk to Dumbledore more about what had happened, what _was_ happening. Were they planning anything? How were they going to deal with Voldemort’s return?

Yet, only Sarah and Draco were making any effort to tell Harry anything. Sirius and Remus had sent a few letters but they were more closely watched and usually asked Sarah to add in a comment from them in her letters.

It still infuriated Harry. He had seen Voldemort return – he had _fought_ him! And he was being left here like a child.

He sighed and looked out the window and to the dark sky. He only hoped that whatever Sarah and Draco were planning, it happened soon.

***

“If you Splinch me, Sirius, I’ll curse you to stay in your dog form all week,” Sarah hissed as she grabbed Sirius’ arm tightly. “ _And_ , I’ll make you sleep in the garden.”

Sirius barked a laugh and winked.

“Hold on tight,” was all he said before he twisted, taking Sarah, Draco and himself through the horrible constricting tunnel of Apparation.

They landed hard on a road in a silent neighbourhood. Identical houses sat in neat rows up and down the street, the blanket of night muffling inner activities.

“We have to be fast,” Sirius said, looking at Number Four, Privet Drive with bright eyes. “Dumbledore’s already going to kill us for leaving.”

“I’m just amazed you managed to Apparate us without leaving half of us behind,” Draco muttered as they crept toward the house.

Sarah saw movement in one of the upper windows and hissed, “I think Harry saw us.”

“Great, means we don’t have to break in,” Sirius said, looking quite disappointed by that fact.

A few seconds later, the front door cracked open and Harry appeared in the doorway.

“You guys are here,” he said, relief heavily coating his words.

Sarah launched forward and wrapped her arms around the taller boy.

“I’ve missed you!” she said, her words muffled by his shirt.

“I was gone for a week,” he replied, smirking. But Sarah heard him whisper, “I missed you, too.”

Sirius stepped up and clapped a hand to Harry’s shoulder.

“Have you got your stuff ready?” he asked, glancing past Harry and into the sterile hallway. “Moony is going to kill me when he realises I took these two.”

“Yeah, everything’s upstairs,” Harry said.

“Draco, you help him, Sarah and I will wait here,” Sirius said, letting the other boy past.

Sarah saw Draco grab Harry’s hand tightly and drag him away and she couldn’t help but smile to herself.

Within minutes, both boys were back downstairs, Harry holding his trunk while Draco held his broomstick and Hedwig in her cage.

Harry closed the front door and locked it silently behind him.

“Come now, quickly,” urged Sirius, drawing them into the shadows of the house. “Grab on.”

The three teenagers latched onto Sirius, who took a deep breath and closed his eyes. A second later, they Disapparated with a small _crack_!

They reappeared in the dark park opposite Grimmauld Place, the quiet of the night disturbed only by their soft whispers.

“Where are we?” Harry asked.

“Oh, here,” Sarah said. She dug in her pocket for the slip of paper she had stolen. On it was written the address of the property, 12 Grimmauld Place, by Dumbledore. It was meant to be used as a means of letting people know the secret location and Sarah had taken it before it could be destroyed. She handed the paper to Harry, who read it with raised eyebrows.

His green eyes widened as the space between houses eleven and thirteen suddenly lengthened and a house appeared between them.

“Let’s go,” Draco said, gripping Harry’s hand firmly and leading him up the stairs to the door.

He tapped his wand on the old wood and the door swung open. The four of them stepped into the eerie entry hall and stopped dead in their tracks.

“Moony…babe…” Sirius started weakly, looking sheepishly at his boyfriend, who was standing at the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed over his chest and a suspiciously calm expression on his face.

“Don’t _babe_ me, Padfoot,” Remus interrupted, glancing at Sirius in an unimpressed manner. “Why don’t the children go up to their rooms while you and I have a _talk_?”

Sirius cringed and walked sullenly into the adjourning parlour.

Remus watched him leave, his lips curling into a slight smirk. He turned back to the wary teens and his smirk turned into a soft smile.

“I’m glad you’re here, Harry,” he said, stepping forward to put his hands on Harry’s shoulders. “You shouldn’t have been made to stay with those horrible people,” he added, shaking his head distractedly. “I better go have that discussion with the apparent _adult_ in the other room.”

He smiled at Sarah and Draco and left, his hands in his pockets.

“Let’s leave it to them,” Sarah said, pushing the boys in the back to get them to move.

Draco led them up a few levels until they reached his rooms. Sarah’s was opposite his and Harry’s designated room was beside hers. There was a bathroom, library and study on this level, similar to the other levels of the old house.

“Sirius and Remus…?” Harry said once they were all sitting on Draco’s bed. “When?”

“Oh, we forgot to add that in our letters,” Sarah said with a smile. She rested up against the headboard and hugged a pillow to her chest. “Apparently they’ve been shagging since school.”

“ _Sarah_!”

“What, Draco?”

“Why did you have to say it like that?”

“It’s the truth!”

Draco rolled his eyes and turned to Harry.

“What she _means_ ,” he said, shooting her an unimpressed look. She stuck her tongue out at him. “Is that they starting dating in school. After…well…everything happened…they tried again. I’m pretty sure they’ve been dating since last summer.”

“Oh, they definitely have,” Sarah nodded. “The number of times I ran out of a room because I saw them snogging…”

“You never mentioned it,” Harry said.

“It honestly didn’t cross my mind,” replied Sarah. She shrugged. “You’ll get used to them being all over each other. They have a few years to make up for.”

Harry looked around the room. Sarah had to admit that despite their best efforts, it was still hideous. The walls were covered in mouldy black wallpaper which was peeling in sections. The furniture was old and had had to be transfigured into something that wouldn’t collapse underneath them at first use. The carpets were scraggly and threadbare. Thank Merlin, they had gotten the fireplace cleaned a working, else the room would have been an ice block.

“Is this where we worked over last summer?” Harry asked.

“Yep,” Sarah nodded. “The Fidelius made you forget it. Also, we only usually worked in the dining room, so you wouldn’t have recognised the rest of it.”

“Sirius’ family lived here,” Draco replied. “The Ancient and Noble House of Black.”

He looked sourly around the room.

“It’s good to see that my mother’s legacy is in decrepit ruin,” he added.

“Your mother’s?” Harry asked in confusion.

“My mother is a Black, remember? She and Sirius are cousins,” said Draco.

“Wow, I had forgotten that,” Harry said. He hesitated before asking, “How is your mother? Have you heard from her?”

Sarah and Draco exchanged a quick look. “I got a letter from her the day after we got here. She said that she was okay and that we wouldn’t be able to contact her. She would contact us when she could.”

Harry looked downcast. “I’m sorry,” he said, grabbing Draco’s hand.

“It’s not your fault, Harry,” Draco said, smiling at his boyfriend. “It was our father’s.”

Sarah sat there as the two boys gazed at each other.

She cleared her throat and smirked as they jumped slightly.

“Well, I’m exhausted, so I’m going to call it a night,” she said, stretching and getting off the bed. “Use Silencing Charms, please, I need my beauty sleep,” she called over her shoulder and she left the room. She closed the door on the boy’s embarrassed protests and walked slowly to her own room.

It wasn’t in much better condition than Draco’s. She had, however, been able to clean the walls enough to unpack her books into transfigured bookcases. The Malfoy house-elves had sent her and Draco’s things to Remus’ house the first day of the holidays and Sarah knew that Narcissa had been trying to help them out.

Sarah guessed that she probably wasn’t going to get much sleep tonight, so she grabbed a random book and crawled into bed. She tapped the gas lamp beside her with her wand, thankful that the combination of the Fidelius Charm and the old, magical house meant that small accounts of underage magic went unnoticed by the Ministry.

She sighed as she began slowly flicking through the pages of the book. It was going to be a long night.

***

A loud screeching woke Sarah up. Weak sunlight was filtering through the cloudy stained-glass windows and she blinked around in confusion. She must have fallen asleep sometime early that morning. The screeching was still continued downstairs somewhere and Sarah realised it was the horrid portrait of Sirius’ mother. Mrs Black always woke up to any loud or sudden noises in the hallway, or whenever the doorbell was rung.

Sarah groaned and slowly pulled her tired limbs out of bed. She mindlessly threw on some clothes and made half an effort to tidy her hair, then made her way downstairs.

Sirius and Remus were wrestling with the curtains that covered Mrs Black’s portrait and Sarah gave her the finger as she walked past.

“The boys are in the kitchen,” Sirius panted as they finally managed to close the drapes.

Remus turned to her and observed the dark bags under her eyes.

“Did you sleep at all?” he asked softly.

Sarah shrugged. “I was reading for a bit but I think I got a few hours.”

Remus pursed his lips, his amber eyes swimming with worry.

“I’m fine, Remus,” Sarah said, waving away his concern. “I’ll take a nap later.”

He looked unconvinced but nodded, letting her pass to the steps leading to the basement kitchen.

As she descended, she heard the adults whispering behind her.

“ – really not okay, Padfoot.”

“We can’t force her to talk to us or anybody, Moony.”

“I know, I just worry about her.”

“She’s strong. She’s like Evelyn, she’s fighting through this…”

Harry and Draco greeted her in the dimly lit kitchen, steaming cups of tea in front of them.

“You slept a while,” Draco said, watching her carefully. “How are you feeling?”

“A bit stiff actually,” Sarah said, cracking her neck and back, “I fell asleep reading. What time is it?”

“Nearly eleven,” replied Harry. He got up to get her a cup of tea which she gratefully accepted. “Remus said that the Weasleys might be coming over today. They obviously don’t know that I’m here yet.”

“That’ll be nice,” Sarah muttered into her teacup.

“You mentioned that there was sometimes meetings here,” Harry said after a brief silence, “What are they for?”

“From what Sirius has told us, which admittedly is a lot more than Dumbledore wants him to,” Draco said with a smirk, “They’re using this place as Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix.”

“The Order of what?”

“The Order of the Phoenix,” Sarah repeated. “It was an organisation established during the first war – kind of like an opposition group, they fought against Voldemort.”

“So far we’ve only seen Professor McGonagall, Moody, Dumbledore and Kingsley Shacklebolt,” Draco added.

“Who?” Harry said.

“He’s an Auror,” replied Sarah. “He was the one in charge of searching for Sirius. He’s managed to mislead the investigation a bit.”

“But Dumbledore and the others haven’t told you anything?” said Harry.

Both Sarah and Draco shook their heads.

“We haven’t been allowed in the meetings,” Sarah said sourly. “Sirius and Remus update us when they can but it seems like there isn’t really anything to tell. They’re planning something but because the Fidelius was only just completed, they haven’t been able to have any larger meetings yet.”

“And unluckily for you, that’s about to change,” said Sirius’ voice from the doorway. He and Remus entered the room and Sirius ruffled Harry’s hair as he walked past him to the counter.

“Dumbledore’s called a meeting in two days,” Remus explained. “Every member of the Order will be coming here.”

“And let me guess,” Sarah drawled. “We aren’t invited?”

“Right in one, pup!” Sirius grinned, falling into the seat opposite her. “Old Dumbly doesn’t want you kiddies in here.”

“I have to say I agree,” Remus said, rolling his eyes fondly at Sirius. “You shouldn’t have to be involved.”

“But I want to help!” Harry exclaimed. “I want to know how we’re fighting against Voldemort. Has Fudge finally come to his senses yet?”

Sirius and Remus looked surprised.

“You haven’t told him yet?” Remus asked Sarah and Draco.

Sarah cringed slightly as Harry whipped his head towards them.

“We thought it would be better to show him,” she muttered weakly.

“What are they talking about?” Harry demanded. “What haven’t you told me?”

Draco sighed and ran a hand over his face.

“The _Prophet_ ’s been printing articles painting you and Dumbledore as liars and attention-seekers,” Draco admitted. “They’ve been getting worse as the week went on.”

“What do you mean?” Harry said in confusion.

“Harry, everyone went home after term ended to find that their parents knew _nothing_ about what had happened. Of course, they tell them, only to see that the _Prophet_ is declaring you a liar and refusing to admit that Voldemort is back,” Sarah elaborated. “We didn’t want to tell you yet because it’s been quite horrible, really.”

Harry gaped at her. “But I got the _Prophet_ every day!” he argued. “There was nothing about that in it.”

“You only read the front page, didn’t you?” Draco said wearily. Harry nodded. “They usually put comments throughout the paper. For instance, if there was an article about Wally Wilkens’ talking dog, they would add a comment that says, ‘A tale worthy of Harry Potter’, in a way to discredit you – make you seem crazy and immature.”

“That’s ridiculous!” cried Harry. “So people don’t believe Voldemort has returned?”

He looked around the table, completely dumbstruck as everyone shook their heads sadly.

“Arthur and Kingsley have been doing what they can within the Ministry,” Remus said. “But they can’t risk Fudge’s attention – he already knows that they’re close to Dumbledore.”

“But – but how are we fighting against Voldemort, then?” Harry asked, sounding slightly defeated.

“Dumbledore and the Order are making plans,” Remus said, cringing slightly. “Unfortunately, that’s all I can say right now.”

Harry went to argue but Draco placed his hand on top of the other boy’s gently.

“Harry, please, Sarah and I have been arguing this for the past week,” he said.

Harry slumped and nodded.

“Can you at least tell me why Dumbledore didn’t want me to know anything?” Harry asked the adults.

Remus hesitated for a split second before saying, “Dumbledore has his reasons, Harry. We need to trust them.”

“Remus, you know that’s ridiculous,” Sarah said, crossing her arms. “Dumbledore probably hasn’t even told _you_ why he’s keeping Harry in the dark. It isn’t fair, Harry was a right to be told at least _something_.”

“I agree with you, Sarah,” Remus said carefully. “But I trust Dumbledore. He’ll tell us when it’s important.”

“It’s important now,” Harry muttered under his breath.

Sirius was sitting looking between Harry and Remus with a disapproving expression on his face. He obviously did not agree with Dumbledore’s actions. Not that Sarah could blame him, the man had sat in Azkaban for twelve years even though Dumbledore knew he was innocent.

Before anyone could say anything else, they heard multiple thumps issue from the front sitting room and a voice calling out, “Remus? Sirius? You here?”

Immediately, Mrs Black’s voice began to shriek through the halls.

“BLOOD-TRAITORS! VERMIN! IN MY HOUSE! DISRESPECTING THE NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK! FILTHY HALF-BREEDS TAINTING THE DOOMED BLOODLINE! FILTH! TRAITORS!”

Sirius cursed and stood up. “I keep telling them not to shout because they wake that bloody hag.”

He stomped out of the room and Sarah quickly followed.

Sirius grabbed one side of the curtains as Sarah stood in front of the screaming woman and said, “Walburga, dear, you’re frothing.”

On some occasions, Walburga was so shocked by Sarah speaking to her that she stops screaming for a moment. Luckily, it was one such time.

“You’re the Deaumont child, aren’t you?” Walburga said, wiping spit from her painted mouth. “I’ve seen you with dear Draco sometimes.”

“If you spent less time shrieking like a banshee whilst awake, maybe we would have had more than one conversation,” Sarah said, raising an eyebrow.

“I never did like your father,” muttered Walburga. “Your mother was even worse, a _Gryffindor_ wench.”

Sirius growled lowly behind Sarah as she stared down Walburga.

“Really, that’s no way to speak to of a pureblood,” Sarah said. “It’s no wonder Narcissa doesn’t visit you.”

“I miss dear Cissy,” crooned Walburga. “She was of good breeding stock. Unlike my traitorous son, befriending half-breeds and blood-traitors.”

Sirius had had enough. He wrenched the curtain nearly closed before hissing, “I didn’t just befriend the half-breed, _dear mother,_ I’m also shagging him.”

With that, he pulled the curtains closed, cutting off Mrs Black’s indignant shriek.

“Well, she’s always lovely to chat to,” Sarah said sarcastically. “I never would have understood why you chose to leave.”

Sirius scoffed and threw an arm over her shoulders. “I’m glad the bitchiness skipped a generation.”

“Are you kidding me?” Sarah said incredulously. “You are _such_ a bitch, Sirius.”

“I am not,” he said, putting his free hand on his chest. “You wound me.”

“Dramatic, too,” muttered Sarah.

“Excuse me, but that old hag’s bitchiness skipped right over me and into Bellatrix,” Sirius said, raising an eyebrow.

“Touché,” Sarah said.

“And we all know that the bitch in your generation is Draco,” Sirius shuddered. “That boy does not hold his verbal punches.”

“Aw did scawy Dwaco hurt Siwius again,” Sarah teased in a baby voice.

Sirius looked at her in horror before pushing her laughing body through the doors to the front sitting room, where Harry, Draco and Remus were already standing with a selection of Weasleys.

“Draco, she’s your problem now,” Sirius announced to the startled blond. “She’s mortally offended me and I don’t know whether I shall ever recover.”

“Wow, the dramatics really do run through the family,” Harry remarked, ignoring his boyfriend’s and godfather’s offended gasps.

“Sirius,” Mrs Weasley said stiffly in greeting. She turned to Sarah and her face fell into a soft smile. “Sarah, dear, so lovely to see you,” she said in a warmer tone.

Sarah accepted her hug and greeted the others.

“Where are the twins?” she asked, noticing that Fred and George were the only two missing. Even Bill was there. Charlie was obviously still in Romania and Percy had moved out a year ago.

“They said they had some – er – business to take care of,” Mr Weasley said, shooting a quick glance at Mrs Weasley. She did not look very impressed.

“Well, hopefully, they won’t take too long,” she said curtly.

“Sorry about the portrait, Sirius,” said Mr Weasley apologetically. “I forgot you mentioned that.”

“No worries, Arthur,” Sirius replied, resting his elbow on Harry’s shoulder. “Sarah enjoys tormenting my mother, it’s very refreshing.”

The Weasleys didn’t seem to know how to reply to that, so Bill suggested they headed into the kitchen for lunch.

“I didn’t know you were staying with the Weasleys,” Sarah whispered to Hermione as the ground settled around the large, wooden table.

“I only got there today,” Hermione muttered. “I told my parents they should take a trip, considering everything that’s happened.”

Sarah nodded watched as Sirius called Kreacher, Grimmauld Place’s house-elf, and began to fight with him about getting ingredients for lunch.

“No worries, Sirius,” Mrs Weasley said, bustling to the counter. “I brought a few things.”

Kreacher glowered at the older woman and crept off, muttering under his breath.

‘A few things’ turned out to be a massive spread of sandwiches, salads, chips and pudding. Sarah picked at her food as the conversation went circled around the table, jumping from topics like Ministry work to Quidditch matches. About half an hour into lunch, Sarah felt someone come up behind her and whisper quietly, “I hope you’re planning on eating a bit more than that.”

Sarah jumped slightly and turned to see Fred watching her, his usual joyous brown eyes narrowed in concern.

“I’m not very hungry,” she told him as he sat beside her.

He nodded but didn’t look happy. Sarah noticed Draco watching them from across the table and sent him a quick smile.

“Ah, good, you two are back,” Mrs Weasley said. “Eat, eat. There’s plenty to go around.”

“How was your business, boys?” Mr Weasley asked.

“Promising,” replied George, not elaborating even at Mrs Weasley’s disapproving glance.

“I’ll tell you later,” Fred whispered in Sarah’s ear.

The rest of lunch passed quickly, only interrupted by Mrs Weasley’s and Sirius’ discussion, which soon became quite heated. The rest of the conversation died away as the two adults glared at each other.

“Dumbledore said we could stay here from next week,” Mrs Weasley was saying.

“Dumbledore is not the master of this house,” Sirius said in a tight voice. “He doesn’t get to decide who lives here or not.”

“He wants us here!” argued Mrs Weasley. “We’ll get the children cleaning the house when there are meetings. I don’t know what you and Remus have been doing but this place is filthy.”

Sirius’s mouth tightened further.

“I assure you, Molly,” he said, visibility trying to keep his voice even, “that Remus and I have been doing everything we can to make this place more habitable. It hasn’t been occupied for nearly two decades.”

“You can’t expect Harry, Sarah and Draco to be comfortable here!” Mrs Weasley cried. “This is no place for children. If you won’t let us stay here then they should stay with us. At least there they won’t be surrounded by Dark objects in every room.”

Sirius’ nostrils flared. “I am Harry’s godfather and Remus is Sarah’s,” he said hotly. “They’ll be staying with _us_. Draco is more than welcome to choose where he stays but I know he wants to stay with them. Do not assume Remus and I have not done everything in our power to make this house safe for them.”

“Safe?” Mrs Weasley scoffed. “You took Sarah and Draco out of the house, despite Dumbledore’s orders. How is that safe? Their fathers are after them, Sirius! They could have been hurt.”

“We went to get Harry,” Sirius bit out. “It was a risk we had to take.”

“You should have just waited until Dumbledore organised for him to be collected,” said Mrs Weasley. Her face was now a bright red. Everyone was watching the interaction with wide eyes.

“Dumbledore was going to leave him there until August!” shouted Sirius. “I will not have my godson stuck which people who treat him horribly!”

“And this is such a better option?” cried Mrs Weasley. “This is a Dark house, Sirius, from a Dark family. Harry should not have this bad influence in his life. Neither should Sarah and Draco!”

“Bad influence?” spat Sirius. “What are you inferring, Molly? Are you saying that I’m a bad influence? This was my childhood home after all.”

Mrs Weasley hesitated for a moment before puffing up again. “I can’t say that I fully agree with your decisions, no,” she said. “You have not exhibited the necessary requirements needed to take care of children.”

“They’re not children, Molly!” Sirius practically growled. “They’re nearly adults. They should be treated as such.”

“They shouldn’t be involved at all!” Mrs Weasley said shrilly. “I don’t know what you’ve been telling them but you shouldn’t continue!”

“I’m telling them what they need to know to stay safe!” Sirius snarled. “And apparently I’m one of the only people willing to do it!”

“I want to keep them safe as well!”

“Then you should be happy that I’m looking out for them!”

“What do you know about taking care of children?”

“What does that mean? I’m doing what’s best for them!”

“You’ve been in prison for twelve years! You can’t possibly know what’s best for them!”

Sarah gasped loudly. Mrs Weasley froze as her words registered but she didn’t apologise.

Sirius took a long, calming breath and said in a voice barely above a whisper, “I may have been in prison for most of his life but I am still Harry’s godfather and I want you to accept that and respect my decisions.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. Sirius turned on his heel and marched out of the kitchen, leaving the dumbstruck observers in his wake. Remus shot Mrs Weasley an unreadable look and quickly followed after his boyfriend. Mrs Weasley was breathing heavily, her face flushed with anger and embarrassment. Ron, Ginny, Bill, Fred and George were all gaping at their mother. Sarah, Draco and Harry were sitting in shock, mouths open. Oddly enough, only Hermione and Mr Weasley had any semblance of composure.

“I apologise that you had to see that,” Mrs Weasley said to the kitchen at large. “Arthur, I’ll meet you at home.”

She walked quickly out of the kitchen with one last glance at Harry.

“What the bloody hell just happened?” Ron burst out into the silence.

“Your mother is – er – quite stressed at the moment, Ron,” Mr Weasley said weakly. He rubbed the back of his neck, which was quite red. “So! You guys can stay here for a few hours while I talk to your mother,” he directed at his children. “Just make sure you’re back in time for dinner.”

“I have some things I need to discuss with Remus,” Bill said. “So, I’ll take them home.”

Mr Weasley nodded once and left the room, rubbing his eyed tiredly.

“I’ll go get Remus,” offered Sarah.

She didn’t wait for anyone to reply and quickly exited the kitchen. She trekked up the various staircases until the last level, where the master bedroom stood. The door was slightly ajar and she could hear soft voices filtering out of the room.

“ – can’t believe she thinks that!”

“Sirius, she’s just worried about Harry – “

“I know that, Moony but to say that in front of him? There’s nothing I regret more than not being there for him all these years.”

“You can’t change the past, Padfoot. You’re here for Harry now and he knows that.”

Sarah knocked quietly on the doorjamb and the voices stopped.

“Yes?” called out Remus.

“It’s me,” she said, pushing the door open and slipping into the dimly lit room. “Are you okay, Sirius?”

“I’m fine, pup,” Sirius said, managing a small smile. “It’ll take a lot more than a few harsh words to break me.”

Sarah frowned and sat down beside the two men on the bed.

“You’re a good godfather,” she said suddenly, not looking at either of them. “Both of you.”

She could feel their eyes on her but she ignored them and continued speaking.

“Harry and I never had positive father figures in our lives. The fact that you’re willing to try to be that for us means everything to us,” she turned to find both men looking at her in slight shock. “Even if you don’t think it sometimes, we would both be lost without you. When you showed up for the final task, Harry finally looked hopeful – he had been a mess for days beforehand.” Sirius’ mouth quirked up in a half-smile. Sarah looked toward the bedsheet and played with it idly. “I know I don’t talk to you both as much as you want me to,” she said softly. “But, ever since my mother died, I’ve only really had Draco to confide it. And with this…he just can’t understand it the way I need him to. He’s wonderful, of course, and it would be worse without him. But only Harry truly understands.”

Sarah turned her gaze on the older men, both of whom were now watching her sadly.

“I’m trying, though,” she said in a strong voice. “I’m trying to remember that, it doesn’t matter if you understand or not, it only matters that you’re there for me.”

“We’ll always be there for you, Sarah,” Remus said gravely. “You, Draco, Harry – always.”

“Yeah, you can’t get rid of us now, pup,” smirked Sirius.

He leant forward and ruffled Sarah’s hair, ignoring her outraged squawks. She batted his hands away but that only encouraged him more. Soon, it became a struggle of hands and limbs until Sarah ended up in a loose headlock with Sirius’ fist rubbing the top of her head.

“Surrender!” he cried.

“All right, I give up, I give up,” Sarah gasped out in between laughs.

Sirius released her and threw an arm over her shoulder.

“Things will get better, Sarah,” he said, something unreadable flickering through his grey eyes. “It may not seem like it, but it will get better.”

“Sirius is right, surprisingly,” Remus teased.

“Oi!” Sirius barked. “I’ll remember that next time you want me to go – “

“NO!” Sarah and Remus shouted, both launching themselves forward to cover Sirius’ mouth.

He laughed beneath their hands and pushed them off.

“Oh, Remus,” Sarah said. “I actually came up to get you. Bill wants to talk to you.”

“Are they still here?” Remus asked in surprise.

“Mr and Mrs Weasley went home,” replied Sarah. Sirius relaxed fractionally.

“Well, I better go see what Bill wants,” Remus said. He dropped a kiss to Sirius’ dark head and squeezed Sarah’s shoulder once before leaving.

“I wonder where the others have run off too?” Sirius said once Remus’ footsteps had faded.

“Harry and Draco probably took them to one of the rooms,” Sarah said. “Not sure what they could be talking about, though.”

“You’d better check on them,” Sirius commented, rising from the bed and taking Sarah with him. “I’m going to find that good-for-nothing elf and try to figure something out for dinner.”

“Sirius,” Sarah called in a stern voice. Sirius turned to face her from his position in the doorway. “ _Behave_.”

Sirius’ bark of laughter echoed down the hall as Sarah left to find the others.

***

Draco, Harry and the others had congregated in Draco’s room, all of them somehow managing to fit on the large bed.

“How’s Sirius?” Harry said in greeting as Sarah closed the door behind her.

“He’s fine,” she replied with a smile. “He’s trying to bully Kreacher into helping with dinner.”

“Hopeless cause, that,” Draco scoffed. He was sitting in between Harry’s legs, leaning up against the other boy’s chest. They drew their legs up to let Sarah climb over them to sit in Fred’s lap.

“Who’s Kreacher?” Hermione said carefully, her tone suspiciously innocent.

“The horrid house-elf that lives here,” Harry replied without thinking. “All he does is mutter profanities under his breath and burn our meals. Remus and Sarah have done their best to soften him up but he’s set on being a cranky old bastard.”

Hermione immediately sat up straighter.

“Harry! You shouldn’t speak of him that way!” she cried. “Maybe Kreacher is feeling that way because he’s a _servant_!”

“Maybe, Hermione,” George said dismissively. He turned to Sarah and said, “D’you reckon Remus will let Fred and I join the Order?”

“I’m guessing you’ve already asked your mother?” Sarah smirked.

George frowned. “Yeah, she shouted at us for ages before Dad was able to calm her down.”

“It shouldn’t matter, though, we’re of-age,” Fred added, his breath ruffling Sarah’s hair.

“Ask before one of the meetings,” Sarah suggested. “That way your mother can’t shout at you in front of everyone.”

“Yeah, she’ll just do it in private afterwards,” Fred muttered sourly.

Conversation quickly turned toward what everyone was planning on doing for the rest of the holidays. The twins kept suspiciously quiet about their plans and Fred just smirked when Sarah poked him inquisitively. Sirius came to check up on them at one point, claiming he was bored because Remus was too busy being a responsible adult with Bill to pay him any attention.

At one point, Fred lent down and whispered in her ear, “Can I talk to you in private?”

Sarah nodded and stood up, saying, “We’ll be back soon.”

“Don’t do anything I would do,” Sirius said, smirking at the pair as they left the room. Sarah held her middle finger up to him as she slammed the door behind her.

Sarah led Fred to her bedroom and they sat together on her bed. Fred was watching her carefully and Sarah already knew what he was going to talk to her about.

“I know you hate being asked this,” he said wryly, “but how are you actually feeling, Sarah?”

Sarah sighed and slumped further into her pile of pillows. There was no use trying to deflect Fred, he would just keep asking until she gave him an honest answer.

“I’m still having nightmares,” she admitted softly, not looking at her boyfriend. “And sometimes I have trouble eating.”

“Every day?” he asked, reaching forward to rest a gentle hand on her foot.

Sarah just nodded and sighed again.

“It just keeps hitting me at random times,” she said. She turned her gaze to Fred’s warm brown one and felt slightly better. “The – _emptiness_ – Sometimes, all I want to do is lay in bed.”

Fred was silent for a long moment and Sarah knew he was thinking through his response. When it at last came, it was, “Have you thought at all about seeing a Mind Healer?”

Sarah looked at him and frowned slightly. “I haven’t actually.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t think they’d believe me.”

“It could help,” he continued. He began to gently trace shapes on her foot and ankle, the motion soothing. “You might find that talking to a professional helps you get better.”

“But I don’t mind talking to you about it,” countered Sarah. “And Harry, Draco, Sirius, Remus – I have plenty of people to talk to.”

“And do you talk to them?” he asked, mouth twitching slightly.

Sarah stuck her tongue out at him. “I’m working on that.”

“Just think about it, okay?” said Fred, his gaze serious. “I only want what’s best for you.”

“I know you do,” Sarah said softly. She leant forward and cupped Fred’s jaw. “Thank you for caring.”

“Of course I care, Sarah,” Fred said. “You’re not just my girlfriend, you’re my friend, my fellow partner-in-crime when George is busy.” At that, Sarah let out a slight laugh. “You’re important, to a lot of people, and you deserve to be happy,” he continued.

Fred moved so that he was sitting directly in front of her, one hand holding her chin and the other beside her on the bed.

“You’re important to me,” he whispered, leaning in slightly.

Sarah’s eyes fell closed as he kissed her gently, sweetly. It was unhurried and soothing – a display of affection and comfort in a time of need.

She slowly moved her arms to encircle Fred’s waist and felt him lean closer slightly, causing her to press more firmly against the pillows behind her.

The kiss remained unhurried and Fred slowly reached up with one hand to run his fingers through Sarah’s hair. She sighed in response and pulled him closer.

They continued in this manner for a few minutes before a loud voice shouted outside the door, “Oi! Are you two lovebirds done _talking_?”

Fred pulled back and groaned slightly.

“Fuck off, George!” Sarah shouted. George laughed and tapped the door once before moving away, his footsteps fading with the others’.

Fred shifted all the way back to allow Sarah to sit up properly. He grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles.

“You’ll let me know when you need something, right?” he asked. “Even if that means space or food or someone to vent to – I’m here for you, always.”

“Promise,” Sarah said, squeezing his hand.

Fred beamed at her.

“Come on, then,” he said, pulling her to her feet. He reached out to smooth down her hair slightly. “Might as well go find the others before someone sends a search party.”

Sarah rolled her eyes but followed him out of the room.


	2. Chapter Two

After the Weasleys and Hermione had left, Sarah, Draco, Harry, Sirius and Remus met in the kitchen for dinner. Sirius had failed to get Kreacher to cooperate, so Remus had gone and gotten takeaway.

“I think we need to try to clean the house more,” Sirius commented as they munched on Thai. “It’s horrible to look at and it seems more people are going to be popping in over the summer.”

“We’ve done most of the first floor,” Sarah mentioned, waving her fork in the air. “I think the bedrooms and main common areas would be a good place to start.”

Sirius winced slightly. “Er – about that,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair in a manner reminiscent of Harry. “You’ve only done about half, maybe less, of the first floor. One of the doors was locked which led to another wing.”

Sarah, Harry and Draco gaped at him.

“How big is this place?” Harry exclaimed. “It’ll take us forever!”

“Not if we all work together,” Remus suggested. “At least to start with. When more people arrive, we can split up more – it’s just not safe doing it separate rooms alone.”

“Let’s go with Sarah’s idea,” Sirius said. “We’ll start with some bedrooms, then maybe the first-floor library and study.”

“I also want to look through the library on our floor,” Sarah mentioned, stealing a piece of beef from Draco. “That reminds me. Sirius, can I talk to you later?”

The Animagus nodded and stretched his arms above his head.

“We’ll start tomorrow, after a nice, long lie-in,” he said, smirking slightly at Remus.

Sarah grumbled, “Great, I’ll be the only person here who doesn’t have their partner tonight.”

Draco and Harry blushed and Harry said quickly, “We’re not going to be _doing_ anything, Sarah!”

She just slumped and crossed her arms. “That’s because you’re boring. Sirius and Remus are definitely going to shag.”

Remus choked on his drink and sprayed water all over the table as Sirius howled with laughter.

“I really don’t like my goddaughter saying that,” Remus spluttered, waving his wand and cleaning up the mess. “And if Sirius keeps that up, he’s going to be sleeping on the couch.”

Sirius immediately sobered up.

“Aw, Moony,” he whined. “The couch has fleas!”

“And so do you, Padfoot,” Remus replied with a smirk. “We might have to take you to the vet.”

“Don’t you fucking _dare_.”

Sarah quickly pulled the boys out of the kitchen when the looks between the adults became heated. They trudged up to Draco’s room and collapsed on his bed. Sarah felt Harry’s hand come down to brush through her loose hair.

“I miss the time we get to just have the three of us,” he said wistfully. “It’s nice.”

“It is,” agreed Draco.

“We’ll make more effort next year,” Sarah said decisively.

“It’s not as though we never get time,” Harry said, contradicting his previous words. “We were just busy and now everyone’s pairing off…”

Sarah sat up and raised an eyebrow at him.

“I am literally the only one with a significant other outside our group,” she said, poking him in the chest. “What’s gotten into you? Draco’s usually the melodramatic one.”

“ _Sarah_.”

Harry laughed at Draco’s mock-hurt expression. But then he sighed and stared at the ceiling.

“Last year just made me realise that we need to value the time we have together more,” he confessed quietly. “We never know when it may end.”

“Harry, don’t say things like that,” Draco said, his tone serious. “We can’t let ourselves think like that.”

“It’s important though, Draco,” Harry argued. “This time, us, our friends – we need to cherish it.”

“You’re right, Harry,” Sarah said softly. “But don’t let the fear of it ending overwhelm you enjoying the moment.”

“Like now,” Draco added, poking Harry in the cheek. Harry swatted his hand away with a smile.

“I’m staying with you two tonight,” Sarah announced, flopping down in between the two boys. They joined her, lying down on either side of her. “Lucky this bed is so big.”

“Yeah, if it wasn’t, Harry would be on the floor,” Draco said casually.

Harry gasped in outrage and immediately began listing all the possible other options in a situation like that as Draco and Sarah laughed themselves to tears. They eventually fell asleep that way, curled around each other and savouring the comfort of the others’ presence.

***

“I’m going to kill that fucking elf,” Sirius snarled, slamming the door loudly in Kreacher’s wake.

It had been just over two weeks since they had started cleaning out the house and every single one of those days, Kreacher snuck into whatever room they were working on to try to ‘save’ anything they were throwing out.

He and Sirius had just had a massive row about a pair of Sirius’ mother’s robes and Sirius had finally snapped, throwing Kreacher bodily out of the room with the threat of clothes.

“Sirius, relax,” Remus said, wiping sweat off his brow. “He’s just acting the way any elf would in a situation like this.”

“Except he’s got a rotten soul,” Sirius growled, stomping back to where he had been working and throwing a vicious spell at a piece of mouldy furniture. “Courtesy of my mother.”

Sarah snorted and waved her own wand at a stubborn piece of carpet until it Vanished.

They had made good progress. They had managed to finish the visible wing of the first floor, with Sirius locking the door leading to the other wing and claiming that he would do it later that year. A few of the bedrooms were now habitable, meaning that when the Weasley’s moved in at the end of the week, they wouldn’t be strangled in their sleep by a rouge set of cursed bedsheets.

Sirius, in particular, took great joy in blasting many of the Black family artefacts to pieces. Draco had convinced him to save some of the most historically valued pieces but joined Sirius in destroying the various personal belongings of the previous generation.

Sirius and Sarah had gone through the library on the third floor where Sarah, Draco and Harry were sleeping. While they worked, Sarah had convinced Sirius to teach her how to become an Animagus.

“If I succeed, I promise I’ll register,” she had said when Sirius had hesitated to agree.

“That’s the last thing I’m worried about,” he had muttered. But then he had agreed.

Sarah hadn’t told Draco and Harry yet, instead working with Sirius in private through the process.

They had also managed to clean up Sarah, Draco and Harry’s rooms (even though Harry was spending each night in Draco’s room) and now they were fitted with new, gleaming furniture and clean sheets and curtains.

Sarah had moved all her stuff from Remus’ house to Grimmauld Place. She couldn’t help but notice that a lot of Remus’ stuff was also starting to appear in the house as well.

The Order meetings were beginning to increase in quantity, with more members appearing each time.

There was one memorable occasion in at the end of July where a young woman with bubble-gum pink hair had tripped over the troll foot umbrella stand next to the door and crashed straight into Draco, taking them both tumbling to the floor.

After they had untangled themselves and Harry had stopped laughing long enough to pull Draco to his feet, the woman had jumped up and shouted, “Cousin!” and proceeded to smother Draco in a flannel hug.

Draco had stood in shock, gaping at the smaller woman’s spiky haircut. Eventually, Sirius had peeled the woman off Draco’s prone form and steered her into the kitchen, where she managed to bump into three chairs along with way.

An older woman stepped up beside Draco and said, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Draco. Your mother sent me a picture once, many years ago. You have grown into a handsome young man.”

Draco blushed a shade nearly identical to the pink hair and spluttered out a question, “Aunt – Aunt Andromeda?”

“Yes, dear,” Andromeda replied, smiling brightly. She turned to Sarah, who had been standing beside Harry stifling giggles. “And you must be Sarah Deaumont, Narcissa mentioned you as you were in the photo.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Sarah said.

“None of that ma’am, nonsense,” Andromeda said, waving her hand. “Call me Andy.”

It was after that same meeting that Sarah and the other teenagers were allowed to finally meet some members of the Order. It turned out that a large majority of them had decided to stay for one of Mrs Weasley’s home-cooked dinners.

Thanks to Sirius and Remus’ hard work, the kitchen was now one of the most pleasant places to be in the house, although that wasn’t too hard. The dust and grime had been cleaned off all the surfaces until they shined brightly under the newly replaced lights. Sirius had fiddled with the large table until it looked brand new, the dark wood gleaming as it took up the majority of space. The fireplace had been cleaned and fixed and a lovely warmth filled the usually cold basement room.

Whispers had started when Sarah, Draco and Harry had walked into the room after the meeting finished. Some of the members gazed at Harry in barely concealed awe while others eyed Sarah and Draco warily.

“Right on time, you three,” Sirius announced, shooing them into some free chairs. “The others are arriving shortly, Arthur went back to get them.”

“I didn’t properly introduce myself earlier,” said the woman who had crashed into Draco, “My name is Tonks.”

“It’s actually Nymphadora,” Sirius snickered from a few seats over.

Tonks glared at him and her hair changed from pink to a vivid scarlet.

“I’ve already told you not to call me _Nymphadora!”_ she snarled at him.

Sarah gaped at her. “You’re a Metamorphmagus!” she blurted out.

Tonks turned to her, her brown eyes gleaming brightly. “I am,” she confirmed. She changed her hair back to its original pink.

“I am, too!” Sarah said, leaning closer and changing the colour of her eyes and hair.

Sirius and Remus made choked sounds of surprise but Sarah ignored them. Tonks beamed at her and said, “I’ve never met someone else with my abilities.”

“Neither have I,” Sarah said. “Can you show me what you can do?”

Tonks agreed and began to talk her through how she made some of her more complicated changes, sometimes demonstrating for Sarah. It was during one of those demonstrations that the rest of the Weasley’s walked in.

“Okay, who hexed my girlfriend with pig’s snout?” Fred said as he dropped into the seat next to Sarah.

She smiled at him and changed her nose into a duck’s beak and then back to normal.

“Tonks had been teaching me some tricks,” she said. She pressed a kiss to Fred’s cheek and pulled back to see him staring at her in shock. “What?”

“You’re a Metamorphmagus?” he said shrilly.

“I literally told you before second year,” Sarah said flatly. “Remember when you hexed mine and Harry’s hair off and I just grew it back?”

Fred blinked quickly. “I had legitimately forgotten about that.”

Sarah rolled her eyes and continued, “What about each summer where I changed my eye or hair colour?”

Fred smiled sheepishly and wrapped his arms around her. “I just assumed you were using charms,” he admitted, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

She rolled her eyes again and pushed him back. “Unbelievable.”

“Wait, wait,” Tonks said, smiling at them. She pointed at Fred, “He hexed your hair off and you _still_ ended up dating him?”

Sarah smirked. “I guess he just grew on me,” she said, winking at her boyfriend.

“Yeah, like a fungus,” George called from across the table. “He gets all under your skin and no matter how much you scratch – “

“George, please shut up,” Fred begged. George smirked and Fred put two fingers up at him. Unfortunately, Mrs Weasley caught the gesture.

“Fred!” she snapped from the counter. “Act your age!”

Tonks, Draco, Sarah, Harry and George all laughed at Fred’s disgruntled expression.

Sarah lent over him to address Remus.

“What’s with the large crowd?” she asked.

Remus huffed slightly, removing Sirius’ hand from around his shoulders to lean closer. “Molly wanted to celebrate Harry’s birthday and invited everyone during the meeting,” he said.

“But we’re celebrating his birthday tomorrow,” Sarah said, frowning slightly. “On his actual _birthday_.”

“I know, I know,” Remus replied, grabbing Sirius’s hand as it began to wander. “But you know how Molly gets.”

Sarah turned back to the conversation that Fred, Tonks and Draco were having.

“I’m telling you, it’s much better to find frog spawn in your bed than doxy droppings,” Fred was saying.

“No, no, no,” Draco passionately disagreed. “Doxy droppings create less mess _and_ they aren’t actually poisonous, despite what people think.”

Tonks butted in quickly, “Actually, neither is a pleasant experience. Your best bet is to go with beetle dung, it reeks _and_ gets everywhere.”

Sarah turned to find Harry watching the conversation with horrified amusement. She poked him in the arm and he turned to face her.

“Apparently this is meant to be an early birthday celebration with everyone,” she whispered. “Remus is none too impressed.”

Harry groaned. “Is there any chance I can get out of it?”

“Well, considering that it’s _your_ birthday,” Sarah grinned, “I’d say the chances are very low.”

Mrs Weasley called everyone to dinner, effectively cutting off the conversation between Draco, Fred and Tonks, which was now reaching worrying levels.

After dinner, Mrs Weasley brought out a small cake for Harry and made everyone sing Happy Birthday to him. He sunk low in his chair, blushing a dark red.

“Your actual cake is still for tomorrow,” Mrs Weasley whispered as she placed the cake in front of Harry.

“Thanks, Mrs Weasley,” he muttered.

Mrs Weasley smiled at him and patted him on his shoulder.

Eventually, the Order members began to trickle out the door. Kingsley Shacklebolt, on his way out, asked Sirius where he should be spotted next.

“Go Belgium,” Sirius said, nodding to himself. “I’ve always liked waffles.”

Tonks gave them all tight hugs, practically buzzing with an exorbitant amount of energy.

“Talk soon!” she called as her mother shooed her out the door. “And remember what I said about beetle dung!”

Andromeda rolled her eyes and pushed her daughter the final distance out of the door, waving goodbye to everyone else. At long last, the kitchen only contained the Weasleys, Sarah, Draco, Hermione, Ron, Sirius and Remus.

“Sarah and the boys can show you guys to your rooms,” Sirius said as Remus conversed with Mr and Mrs Weasley. “They’re on the second floor, I think.”

Harry led them to the three rooms grouped on the second floor.

“Hermione and Ginny, you’re in this one,” he said, opening the first door. “Fred and George, you’re the next room and Ron, you’re the one opposite them.”

“The bathroom is the third door on the left,” Sarah added. “Don’t go into any of the others, though. They aren’t safe yet.”

“I think Sirius put your parents in the room on the first floor,” Draco mentioned as everyone grabbed their stuff and went to move to their rooms. “If they choose to stay.”

“Thank you, guys,” Hermione said gratefully. “I’m exhausted. I’m going to call it a night.”

She hugged Sarah, Harry, Ron and Draco quickly before disappearing into her room with Ginny, the younger girl yawning and rubbing her eyes.

“I’m off as well,” Ron said, thumping Harry on the back. He wandered off into his room and soon everyone else had trickled away to their designation rooms.

Sarah was just getting comfortable with a book in her bed when a soft _crack_ split the air. Fred appeared in the middle of her room, grinning brightly at her.

“I forgot you passed your Apparation test,” Sarah said, smiling in return.

Fred walked closer. “All right if I join you?” he asked softly.

Sarah nodded and moved over, patting the space beside her. Fred’s grin widened and he fell onto his stomach on the bed.

“You actually planning on sleeping anytime soon?” he mumbled, his words muffled slightly by the pillow.

“Hmm,” Sarah said. “I want to read for a bit.”

“Okay, then,” he sighed. “I’m just going to get comfortable.”

He shuffled around a bit before he relaxed, sinking into the mattress with a soft sigh. Sarah drew the comforter up to his back and sat against the headboard.

She lowered the light enough so that she could read but wasn’t blinding Fred. As she read, she slowly threaded her fingers through Fred’s soft hair. He hummed in response and sunk boneless into her touch.

In no time at all, he was snoring softly, one arm thrown over Sarah’s legs. She smiled down at him and continued reading for a few more hours. When her eyes began to finally droop, she placed her book quietly on the bedside table and carefully lowered herself next to Fred. He shifted slightly in his sleep and wrapped his arms around her chest, lowering his head to rest in the crook of her neck. He sighed happily and snored on, Sarah rolling her eyes in response.

***

_Harry wasn’t where he was meant to be._

_Sarah looked around fitfully, searching for the dark-haired boy._

_He was meant to be right there! Right in front of her!_

_She shuffled forward in the dark and fell over something large. Dropping to her knees, she found her hands clasped in Cedric’s robes, his glassy eyes staring unseeingly into the distance._

_She cried out and shook him, hopelessly trying to get the other boy to move._

_Tears streamed down her face as she stood on shaky legs, stumbling forward and calling out Harry’s name._

_It was wrong. Everything was wrong._

_He wasn’t there. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t there._

_She was too late._

_Too late._

_Harry wasn’t there. He wasn’t –_

“Sarah!”

She felt someone shaking her shoulders and she sat up suddenly, struggling to draw in breath.

“You’re okay,” said Fred’s voice in a soothing tone. “Just breathe, Sarah. Slowly – in and out – that’s it.”

Sarah shuddered and curled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around herself.

She could still feel hot tears sliding down her face, sobs wracking her body. Fred was stroking her hair gently, one hand gripping her shoulders to keep her upright.

“You’re all right, love,” he whispered. “You’re all right. It was just a nightmare – just a nightmare. They can’t hurt you now.”

Slowly, her sobs resided and were replaced by violent shivers. Fred wrapped his arms around her tightly and she collapsed into his embrace, gripping his shirt tightly.

“Shh, everything’s okay, I promise,” he murmured, kissing her forehead gently.

She eventually managed to stop the shivers, falling silent and unmoving in Fred’s arms. He continued to stroke her hair and back, whispering comforting words until she felt stable enough to pull back.

Wiping her face, she buried back under the blankets. Fred didn’t let her get too far, reaching out to wrap an arm behind her and pull her close to him so that her head rested under his chin.

“Do you need to talk about it?” he asked.

Sarah shook her head and ducked closer to Fred’s chest. The sound of his heartbeat beating strongly under her ear helped calm her own erratic one.

“Thank you,” she whispered to him.

“Anytime,” he replied, pressing a kiss to her hair.

As the adrenaline from the dream flooded out of her body, Sarah felt her eyes grow heavy and she fell into a peaceful sleep, safe in Fred’s arms.

Warm sunlight on her face drew Sarah to awareness. She was still wrapped tightly in Fred’s arms, one of his hands running up and down her back slowly.

“G’morning,” he croaked when he noticed she was awake.

“Morning,” she said, sitting back slightly. “Did you manage to get to sleep after I woke you up?”

“Mmm,” Fred nodded, he stretched slightly before placing his arms back around Sarah. “I had a very pleasant sleep.”

“Bullshit.”

Fred raised an eyebrow challengingly. “I’m not lying,” he smirked. “I had you in my arms, of course I had a good sleep.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Sap,” she said, smacking his chest lightly.

His chest rumbled with his quiet laughter and Sarah let herself rest there for a while, just enjoying the feeling of simple comfort.

“We should get up soon,” she said eventually.

“They’re just going to make us do chores,” Fred grumbled, tightening his arms around her.

“Someone’s going to come looking for us,” countered Sarah. “Do you really want your mother walking in here? Or Sirius?”

Fred groaned and reluctantly released her.

She smirked down at him and leant down to kiss him. He reached up to thread one hand through her hair. When Sarah pulled back, they were both gasping slightly and Fred looked dazed.

She got off the bed. “Get up,” she said, smirking at how he blinked for a few moments hazily. “Go get dressed, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

“Or you could meet me in my room,” he said in a flirtatious tone.

“In your dreams,” she scoffed.

Fred opened his mouth to reply, his eyes bright with mischief but she just waved her arms at him. “Go!”

He Apparated mid-laugh, leaving Sarah shaking her head at the empty room.

***

When she finally made her way down to the kitchen, she found Sirius, Remus and Draco all nursing strong cups of coffee.

“Well, hello caffeine-dependent people,” Sarah said as she strolled toward the counter. Someone, (Sarah guessed Mrs Weasley) had laid out a tray with bacon, eggs, toast, mushrooms and sausages loaded on it, kept warm under a Stasis Charm.

Draco just mumbled a greeting before taking a sip of his coffee. Sirius yawned widely, nearly hitting Remus with the arm he flung out.

“How’d you sleep, pup?” he asked around the yawn.

Sarah knocked his hand away as it came to steal a piece of toast from her plate. “Surprisingly well,” she said.

Sirius smirked slyly. “Was that due to the presence of a certain red-headed twin?” he asked.

Sarah smiled unapologetically back. “Maybe.”

“As long as you guys didn’t get up to anything I would,” Sirius continued. “I would hate to need to have that conversation with you. It means I’d have to have it with the boys as well.”

Sarah threw a piece of crust at him. “Of course not,” she scoffed. “Some of us can actually control themselves.” She sobered up slightly and said in a more serious tone, “He actually helped me out of a nightmare.”

Immediately, Draco, Sirius and Remus sat up, much more alert than a second before.

“I’m okay now,” Sarah assured before any of them could ask. “I managed to get back to sleep and everything.”

“That’s good,” Remus smiled tiredly.

Draco stared at her for a moment longer and Sarah sent him a reassuring smile. His silver eyes darted down to her full plate and he smiled brightly. They were soon distracted by the appearance of Harry, Ron, Fred and George tumbling into the room.

The kitchen soon filled up with chatter. Cups of tea and coffee were passed around as plans for the day were discussed. As expected, they would continue cleaning. But due to the amount of people here now, they could afford to spread out through the rooms more.

“Draco, you and Harry will work with Ron and Hermione,” Remus directed once breakfast was finished, “Sarah, the twins and Ginny will be with you.”

“Where will you be working?” Sarah asked, finishing off another cup of tea.

“We’ve got Order stuff to work on,” Sirius replied. “It’ll just be you guys working on the house today.”

Draco and Harry groaned but everyone agreed, soon splitting off into their designation groups to tackle the rooms.

Around lunch time, they all met in the dining room for lunch. Mrs Weasley had left out a platter of sandwiches which was soon devoured.

“We finished the second-floor study, Sarah,” Draco mentioned before they separated again. “How’s the drawing room coming along.”

Sarah shuddered. “We’re going to need everyone for that one, I think,” she replied. “Probably best to let Sirius and Remus look over it first as well. I took one step inside and immediately walked out. We’ve been working on more of the bedrooms.”

“We’ll talk to them at dinner,” Draco decided.

The next few days passed in the same fashion. Harry’s real birthday celebration consisted off too much cake, Honeydukes sweets and games in the front sitting room. Remus had disappeared briefly and returned with a selection of muggle and wizarding board games.

“Where did you find those?” Sirius asked in amazement, looking through the pile.

“Lily left them with me,” Remus replied quietly. Sirius’ eye’s snapped to his boyfriend’s a sad smile crept onto his face.

Harry immediately dived into them, eager to play something that his parents had owned.

The week before Harry’s hearing with the Ministry, a large Order meeting was called.

“Harry needs to know some facts, Molly,” Remus said during an argument about whether Harry could attend the meeting or not, “ _Not_ all the facts – but a general picture. It’s better he gets them from us, rather than a garbled version from others…”

Sarah guessed that was a reference to the Extendable Ears Fred and George had been working on. They allowed the user to listen to conversations happening on the other side of a door or in another room. Mrs Weasley had gone on a rampage a few days ago and tried to uncover any of them that the twins had hidden.

“Fine,” Mrs Weasley said. “But Ron – Ginny – Hermione – Fred – George – I want you all out of the kitchen, now.”

There was instant uproar.

“We’re of age!” bellowed Fred and George together.

“If Harry’s allowed, why can’t I?” shouted Ron.

“Mum, I _want_ to!” wailed Ginny.

“NO!” shouted Mrs Weasley, standing up, her eyes overbright. “I absolutely forbid – “

“Molly, you can’t stop Fred and George,” said Mr Weasley wearily, “They _are_ of age – “

“They’re still in school – “

“But they’re legally adults now,” said Mr Weasley in the same tired voice.

Mrs Weasley was now scarlet in the face.

“I – oh, all right then, Fred and George can stay, but Ron – “

“Harry, Draco and Sarah will tell me and Hermione everything you say anyway!” said Ron hotly.

Harry immediately nodded in agreement.

“It’s up to Sirius and Remus whether Sarah and Draco stay,” Mr Weasley added, sensing Mrs Weasley’s next line of attack.

“They’re staying,” Sirius said stubbornly, the echo of his and Mrs Weasley’s argument from a few weeks ago hanging in Sarah’s memory.

“Fine!” shouted Mrs Weasley. “Fine! Ginny – BED!”

Ginny did not go quietly. They could hear her raging and storming at her mother all the way up the stairs, and when she reached the hall Mrs Black’s ear-splitting shrieks were added to the din. Remus hurried off to the portrait to restore calm. Members slowly started trickling in, some glancing questioningly at the presence of the teenagers.

The meeting started with a general briefing from Mad-Eye Moody, who obviously changed the wording slightly to ensure that Sarah and the others wouldn’t know the exact nature of what they were talking about.

“Any updates on the – er – object?” asked a portly wizard, hesitating slightly with a glance at the teenagers.

“A new schedule will be made shortly,” Moody replied gruffly. “Kingsley’s informed us that some people were catching on. We’ll have to be more careful.”

Overall, the meeting was quite uninformative. Harry was able to ask questions about their overall goals but Mrs Weasley cut Sirius off from answering too much. Moody refused to say anything more apart from getting updates from various members. When they were dismissed, Sarah and the others trudged up to Draco and Harry’s room, which had become the designated meeting room.

“Do you think they let us go into that meeting because they knew it would be boring?” Fred asked once they were all seated.

“Probably,” Draco replied. “No wonder Sirius looked pissed.”

“I’m surprised Dumbledore didn’t show up,” Harry noted. “Has anyone noticed him coming to any of the meeting?”

Everyone shook their heads.

“They probably wanted to get us off their backs,” Sarah said. “They might think that because that meeting didn’t give us any useful information, we’ll be less likely to keep asking questions.”

“Yeah, like that’s likely to happen,” George scoffed. “Have they even met you?”

“It’s definitely Dumbledore’s doing,” Draco contemplated. “That’s the only reason why everyone was ready to tell us as little as possible.”

“Actually…” Sarah said haltingly. “We need to read between the lines.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

“Well, they said that Kingsley let them know that whatever they were doing was starting to get noticed,” Sarah reminded them. “That most likely means that whatever they’re making a schedule for, it has to do with the Ministry.”

“Dumbledore might be trying to get the Ministry on our side?” Ron suggested. “He’s been asking Dad to talk to as many people as he can.”

“Possibly,” Sarah agreed. “But I think it’s something else. Why would they need to change a schedule for something because it was starting to attract attention or suspicion?”

“Do you think it could be able something _within_ the Ministry?” Fred asked.

“I don’t know,” said Sarah honestly. “It’s a possibility.”

“Sirius mentioned a weapon of sorts a few weeks back,” Harry revealed. “I didn’t really know what he was talking about at the time but what if the Order is trying to get a hold of a weapon to defeat Voldemort?”

The Weasleys all flinched at the name. Harry rolled his eyes slightly.

“What could be more powerful than the Killing Curse?” Ron said. “Something to cause immense pain before death?”

“He’s got the Cruciatus Curse for that,” Harry said darkly. “It must be something else.”

They sat thinking for a few more minutes before they heard voices issue from downstairs. 

“Everyone must be leaving,” Hermione said.

“It would’ve been better if we could’ve stayed for the whole meeting,” Fred said grumpily.

“Forget that now, listen,” said George urgently.

Sirius’ voice could be heard coming up the stairs.

“Molly, relax, they’re probably just talking or hell, even in bed. You don’t need to check on them.”

“Go,” Draco said, and they scattered.

Fred and George popped out of the room with Hermione and Ron on their arms. Sarah crossed the hall to her room, closing her door just as she heard Sirius and Mrs Weasley ascend the stairs.

“Leave them, Molly,” she heard Sirius say.

“Sarah really shouldn’t be in the room with the boys,” Mrs Weasley argued but Sirius cut her off.

“Sarah and Draco have been friends since they were born,” he said. “Being in each other’s presence is comforting. And Harry can do whatever he wants. Leave them be.”

Mrs Weasley tried arguing again but Sirius stood firm and eventually their footsteps descended once again.

Sarah went to bed thinking about all the possibilities of what the Order might be planning.


	3. Chapter Three

The day of Harry’s hearing quickly arrived. He left early in the morning with Mr Weasley and the others spent the day tackling the drawing room to keep their minds off of Harry’s future. The drawing room was a long, high-ceilinged room on the first floor with olive-green walls covered in dirty tapestries. The carpet exhaled little clouds of dust every time someone put their foot on it and the long, moss-green velvet curtains were buzzing as though swarming with invisible bees. It was around these that Mrs Weasley had gathered them all. They had all tied cloths over their noses and mouths. Each of them was also holding a large bottle of black liquid with a nozzle at the end.

“Right you lot, you need to be careful, because doxies bite and their teeth are poisonous. I’ve got a bottle of antidote here, but I’d rather nobody needed it,” said Mrs Weasley.

“Is she reading from a Lockhart book?” Sarah whispered to Fred.

“Yep,” he cringed. “Let’s hope that antidote works.”

As soon as they began spraying, fully grown doxies came soaring out of the folds of the curtains, shiny beetlelike wings whirring, tiny needle-sharp teeth bared. Their fairylike bodies were covered with thick black hair and their four tiny fists were clenched with fury. Sarah caught a group of them in the face with a blast of Doxycide; they froze in mid-air and fell, with a surprisingly loud _thunk_ , onto the worn carpet below. Sarah picked them up and threw it in a bucket.

“Fred, what are you doing?” said Mrs Weasley sharply. “Spray that at once and throw it away!”

Sarah looked around. Fred was holding a struggling doxy between his forefinger and thumb.

“Right-o,” Fred said brightly, spraying the doxy quickly in the face so that it fainted, but the moment Mrs Weasley’s back was turned he pocketed it with a wink.

“We want to experiment with doxy venom for our Skiving Snackboxes,” he told Sarah under his breath.

Deftly spraying two doxies at once as they soared straight for her nose, Sarah moved closer to Fred and muttered out of the corner of her mouth, “What are Skiving Snackboxes?”

“Range of sweets to make you ill,” Fred whispered, keeping a wary eye on Mrs Weasley’s back. “Not seriously ill, mind, just ill enough to get you out of a class when you feel like it. George and I have been developing them this summer. They’re double-ended, colour coded chews. If you eat the orange half of the Puking Pastilles, you throw up. Moment you’ve been rushed out of the lesson for the hospital wing, you swallow the purple half – “

“ ‘– which restores you to full fitness, enabling you to pursue the leisure activity of our own choice during an hour that would otherwise have been devoted to unprofitable boredom.’ That’s what we’re putting in the adverts anyway,” whispered George, who had edged over out of Mrs Weasley’s line of vision and was now sweeping a few stray doxies from the floor and adding them to his pocket. “But they still need a bit of work. At the moment our testers are having a bit of trouble stopping puking long enough to swallow the purple end.”

“Testers?”

“Us,” said Fred. “We take it in turns. George did the Fainting Fancies – we both tried the Nosebleed Nougat – “

“Mum thought we’d been duelling,” said George.

“Joke shop still on, then?” Sarah muttered, pretending to be adjusting the nozzle on her spray.

“Well, we haven’t had a chance to get premises yet,” said Fred, dropping his voice even lower as Mrs Weasley mopped her brow with her scarf before returning to the attack, “so we’re running it as a mail-order service at the moment. We put advertisements in the _Daily Prophet_ last week.”

Sarah grinned at them.

“I’m glad it’s beginning to work out,” she whispered. She turned a harsh glare on Fred. “But if I find one of those sweets in my food, I’m breaking up with you.

The de-doxying of the curtains took most of the morning. When they at last took off their protective cloths, the curtains were limp and damp from the intensive spraying; unconscious doxies lay crammed in the bucket at the foot of them beside a bowl of their black eggs, at which Crookshanks was now sniffing and Fred and George were shooting covetous looks.

They all separated to shower and head to lunch. Sarah offered to deal with the doxy eggs and when Mrs Weasley wasn’t looking, she poured them into a vial she conjured before slipping it into her pocket.

When Sarah finally went down into the kitchen, her hair still damp from her shower, it was to find it a hive of activity. Harry was back from his hearing and was now sitting Draco’s arms wrapped around him, smiling at Ron and Hermione. Mrs Weasley was wiping her face on her apron while Mr Weasley, Sirius and Remus spoke in hushed voices nearby. Fred, George and Ginny were doing a kind of war dance to a chant that went “ _He got off, he got off, he got off –_ “

Sarah joined Harry and the others and leant over to ruffle the boy’s hair.

“I’m guessing your hearing went well?” she said.

“Cleared off all charges,” he replied, smiling brightly.

“They were bound to clear you,” said Hermione, who was holding a shaking hand over her eyes. “There was no case against you, none at all…”

“Everyone seems quite relieved, though, considering they all knew I’d get off,” said Harry smiling.

“The Ministry’s out to get you, mate,” Ron said, shaking his head. “They were bound to make it difficult.”

“Fudge was horrible,” Harry agreed. “Oh, that reminds me, Draco, I saw your dad at the Ministry – “

“What?” said Draco sharply.

“ _He got off, he got off, he got off – “_

“Be quiet, you three!” Mr Weasley shouted.

Harry turned back to Draco.

“We saw him talking to Fudge and then they went up to Fudge’s office together,” Harry said. “Mr Weasley wants to tell Dumbledore.”

Draco sat in thought for a moment. “Whatever my father’s doing it can’t be good,” he finally said.

“Try not to think about it,” Sarah suggested. “Your father’s never up to any good – “

“ _He got off, he got off, he got off – “_

“That’s enough – Fred – George – Ginny!” said Mrs Weasley as Mr Weasley left the kitchen. “Harry dear, come and sit down here, have some lunch, you hardly ate breakfast…”

They started eating when Sarah noticed Harry suddenly clap a hand over his forehead.

“Are you all right?” she whispered to him. Draco was looking on in worry.

“Scar,” Harry mumbled. “But it’s nothing…It happens all the time now…”

Sarah pursed her lips and looked at Draco. Harry’s scar hurting wasn’t a good sign.

None of the others had noticed a thing; all of them were now helping themselves to food while gloating over Harry’s narrow escape; Fred, George, and Ginny were still singing.

“I bet Dumbledore turns up this evening to celebrate with us, you know,” Ron said happily.

“I don’t think he’ll able to, Ron,” said Mrs Weasley, setting a huge plate of roast chicken in front of Harry. “He’s really very busy at the moment.”

” _HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF – “_

“SHUT UP!” roared Mrs Weasley.

***

Sirius joined them in drawing room after lunch as they tried to clean out the dusty glass-fronted cabinets standing on either side of the mantlepiece. They were crammed with an odd assortment of objects: a selection of rusty daggers, claws, a coiled snakeskin, a number of tarnished silver boxes inscribed with languages Sarah could not understand and, least pleasant of all, an ornate crystal bottle with a large opal set into the stopper, full of what Sarah was quite sure was blood.

“Sirius, I’ve seen some weird things in pureblood houses,” Sarah said as she eyed the cabinets with slight disgust, “But your family is on a whole ‘nother level.”

“Why do you think I was so eager to leave?” he said, quirking an eyebrow. “Let’s just throw the lot out.”

Kreacher shuffled into the room at one point when Mundungus Fletcher, a seedy Order member who Sarah stayed far away from, rung the doorbell and entered the house with a pile of stolen cauldrons. Mrs Weasley had blown a fuse and shouted at him loud enough to be heard over Mrs Black’s shrieks. Sirius had rushed out of the room to silence his mother’s portrait.

“What do you want anyway?” George asked Kreacher as the elf stood muttering about Harry and Mudbloods.

Kreacher’s huge eyes darted onto George.

“Kreacher is cleaning,” he said evasively.

“A likely story,” said a voice behind Sarah.

Sirius had come back; he was glowering at the elf from the doorway. The noise in the hall had abated; perhaps Mrs Weasley and Mundungus had moved their argument down to the kitchen. At the sight of Sirius, Kreacher flung himself into a ridiculously low bow that flattened his snoutlike nose on the floor. 

“Stand up straight,” said Sirius impatiently. “Now, what are you up to?”

“Kreacher if cleaning,” the elf repeated. “Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black – “

“ – and it’s getting blacker every day, it’s filthy,” said Sirius. He and Kreacher had been getting progressively more and more hateful to each other over the course of the last few weeks, especially since the Weasley’s had stayed.

“Master always liked his little joke,” said Kreacher, bowing again, and continuing in an undertone, “Master was a nasty ungrateful swine who broke his mother’s heart – “

“My mother didn’t have a heart, Kreacher,” Sirius snapped. “She kept herself alive out of pure spite.”

Sarah snorted slightly and turned it quickly into a cough at Hermione’s nasty look.

“I asked you what you were up to,” said Sirius coldly. “Every time you show up pretending to be cleaning, you sneak something off to your room so we can’t throw it out.”

“Kreacher would never move anything from its proper place in Master’s house,” said the elf, then muttered very fast, “Mistress would never forgive Kreacher if the tapestry was thrown out, seven centuries it’s been in the family, Kreacher must save it, Kreacher will not let Master and the blood traitors and the brats destroy it – “

“I thought it might be that,” said Sirius, casting a disdainful look at the opposite wall. “She’ll have out another Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of it, I don’t doubt it, but if I can get rid of it I certainly will. Now go away, Kreacher.”

Sarah turned to face the tapestry Sirius was talking about as Kreacher left the room, muttering loudly under his breath.

“You shouldn’t throw it out, Sirius,” Sarah said, indicating the tapestry. “Kreacher’s right about one thing, it’s got a lot of history on it.”

Golden thread covered the wall, stitching out the names of the Black family members. It was old and faded and looked as though doxies had gnawed on some places. But it dated back until the Middle Ages. At the very top, large words read:

**The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black  
“TOUJOURS PUR”**

“You’re not on here!” Harry said to Sirius after scanning the tapestry.

“I used to be on there,” Sirius said, pointing at a small, round charred hole in the tapestry. “My sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran away from home – Kreacher’s quite fond of muttering the story under his breath.”

“Sirius, it still contains a wealth of history,” Draco said. “There’s one at the Manor for the Malfoy line.”

“Same with the Deaumont line,” Sarah added. “Father used to take great pride in trying to teach me all the names. I didn’t care enough about the stuffy dead aristocrats to pay much attention.”

“Your lines weren’t as Dark as mine, though,” Sirius argued. “All these people here were horrible, pureblood elitists who thought they were better than everybody else.”

“Sounds like the Malfoys to me,” Draco shrugged. He pointed at one of the lower lines. “It shows where the families connect,” he said. “I think it’s priceless.”

“You weren’t blasted off it,” Sirius muttered.

“Not yet,” Draco said, tapping the small embroidered picture under his name. “But I’m sure if Great-aunt Walburga was still alive she would have taken great joy in destroying my picture.”

“Even I’m on it,” Sarah said, pointing at a branch off to the side. The name ‘Sarah Deaumont’ shined in bright gold letters under ‘Antonius Deaumont’. “It even shows that I’m related to the Malfoys further back. Not surprising, considering we were two of the largest pureblood families from France…”

She turned to Sirius with a contemplative look on her face. “It’s been updating itself, Sirius. Do you know what that means?”

Sirius shook his head.

“It means that it will continue to grow from our generation onwards,” Sarah said. “The horrid people on this are dead or imprisoned. We have the ability to create new generations of good people with honourable histories.”

“It’s a disgusting piece of wall,” Sirius said, shaking his head.

“You and I both know it’s not,” Sarah disagreed. “Just think, if we could fix it up a bit, it would look lovely.”

Sirius stared at the tapestry disdainfully.

“I don’t think I want it up here, though,” he finally said. “Why have a constant reminder of my ancestors.”

“Because if also shows you your family,” Sarah said, placing her finger on the portrait of her mother. “If my mother, a Gryffindor, can be woven into this portrait, it means anyone can.” She cocked her head at Sirius. “Mother and James Potter were cousins. If we fix it up enough, his family line could also appear, meaning that Harry will have a portrait. It would then connect to yours as a representation of you being his godfather. Do you see what I’m trying to get at?”

“I could be on here?” Harry said in amazement. “Do you think it would adjust to include the other Potters?”

“Probably,” Draco said. He pointed up further. “There’s a Weasley up there but I bet the others weren’t included because of Sirius’ mother.”

“You really think I should keep it?” Sirius asked them.

Draco and Sarah nodded.

“I think a part of you would regret ripping it down,” Sarah said. “We can all work on fixing it together – erasing the current history that’s tainting its branches.”

Sirius stared at them long and hard.

“Fine,” he said at last with a resigned smile. “We’ll keep the horrid thing.” He suddenly scowled. “Kreacher is going to be so pleased.”

Sarah laughed.

“Come on,” Harry said, patting Sirius on the arm. “We’ve still got another cabinet to get through.”

It took the rest of the afternoon to successfully clear out the glass cabinets. Many of the objects in there seemed very reluctant to leave their dusty shelves. Sirius sustained a bad bite from a snuffbox; within seconds, his bitten hand had developed an unpleasant crusty covering like a tough brown glove.

“It’s okay,” he said, examining the hand with interest before tapping it lightly with his wand and restoring its skin to normal, “must be Wartcap power in there.”

He threw the box aside into the sack where they were depositing the debris from the cabinets; Sarah saw George wrap his own hand carefully in a cloth moments later and sneak the box into his already doxy-filled pocket.

***

On the very last day of the holidays, Sarah was sorting through her books to decide what she wanted to take to school with her when Draco and Harry entered her room carrying some envelopes.

“Booklists have arrived,” Draco announced, throwing Sarah’s toward her.

It was the usual information, as well as two new books: _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5_ and _Defensive Magical Theory_. Sarah cringed. Defensive Magical Theory sounded extremely boring. She just hoped that whoever Dumbledore had found as their Defense teacher was adequate.

Draco suddenly let out a loud gasp.

“What?” Harry said, peering over at his boyfriend.

Draco stood very still, gaping at a small, shiny green and silver badge resting in his palm.

“Is that…?” Sarah said, rushing forward to grab the badge. In silver, cursive letters, the word _Prefect_ glinted cheerfully up at Sarah.

She squealed and embraced Draco tightly.

“Oh, congratulations!” she cried. “I honestly forgot that prefects were chosen this year. I’m so proud!”

Draco was still in shock, looking between Sarah and Harry’s smiling faces blankly.

“You’ll be brilliant,” Harry said, kissing Draco’s cheek.

Draco suddenly snapped out of his stupor. He turned to Sarah and said, “What about you? Did you get it?”

Sarah shook her head and Draco’s expression fell. “I was so sure we’d be prefects together,” he said.

Sarah scoffed. “Please, me, a _prefect_?” She shook her head and laughed. “Snape would have to be _insane_ to make me a prefect – I have very little respect for authority.”

Sarah looked to Harry, “Did you get it? I would have thought McGonagall would have chosen you.”

Harry frowned and said, “No – I had forgotten about it, to be honest.”

Sarah smiled and linked his arm with hers.

“Well, the good news is that we now don’t have to worry about breaking rules. There’s no way Draco would take points off us,” she smirked.

Draco flushed and said, “Just because I’m a prefect doesn’t mean you shouldn’t follow the rules.”

Sarah patted him gently on the cheek. “We’re going to have so much fun messing with you this year,” she declared. “Let’s see how much trouble your best friend and boyfriend can give you before you finally throw us in detention.”

Harry laughed loudly at the conflicted expression on Draco’s face.

Sarah’s smile softened and she said gently, “Your mother will be very proud, Draco. Who knows? This might be the first step to you being Head Boy – Merlin knows you’re enough of a swot for it.”

Draco blushed bright pink and hit her lightly on the arm.

“Shut up, you bint,” he said.

“Let’s go down for lunch,” Sarah said, ruffling his hair. “I’m sure Hermione is bursting to show us her badge.”

They entered the kitchen to find Mrs Weasley hugging Ron tightly and smoothing down his hair, his face bright red.

“Did you three hear?” she asked them as they joined the group, “Ron’s a prefect!”

Sarah, Draco and Harry gaped in shock for a moment before Harry recovered, going up to his friend and clapping him on the shoulder.

“That’s great, mate!”

Sarah and Draco belatedly echoed the sentiment and turned to find Hermione eagerly asking Remus question after question about responsibilities and workloads.

Fred caught her eye and she made her way over to him.

“Can you believe it?” he whispered, wrapping an arm around her waist. “I was sure it was going to be Harry.”

“Me too,” she muttered. “I’m happy Draco got it, though. He deserves it.”

“Ah, so tiny terror got it, did he?” Fred said, sitting back with a smirk. “You may have to watch out – your rule-breaking days could be over.”

“ _Tiny terror_?” Sarah gasped in laughter. “Why the fuck do you call him that?”

Fred shrugged. “He calls us twin terrors, it works.”

It took a few minutes for Sarah to calm down again. Draco looked at her inquisitively and caused her to collapse in a renewed fit of laughter. By now, the others had found out that Draco had also gotten chosen as a prefect and Mrs Weasley was planning a celebratory dinner.

“I don’t believe it! I don’t believe it!” Mrs Weasley was saying to Mr Weasley and Bill, who had just walked through the door. “Ron’s a prefect. Isn’t that _wonderful_? That’s everyone in the family!”

“What are Fred and I, next-door neighbours?” said George indignantly as his mother pushed past him to wrap her arms around her youngest son again.

“Mum…don’t…Mum, get a grip…” Ron muttered, trying to push her away.

“Don’t worry boys,” Sarah said. “At least you still have Harry and I. We haven’t been taken over to the dark side.”

Harry wandered over after escaping a conversation with Hermione. He rested his arms on Sarah’s shoulders and leant against her back.

“Yeah,” he agreed, smiling at the twins, “We can still have a good time without rule-abiding chaperones.”

Draco scoffed loudly from across the room and showed Harry a rude gesture. Sirius, who was walking behind him at the same time, clipped the back of his blond head lightly causing Draco to let out an outraged squawk.

Mrs Weasley left shortly afterward to go collect their school supplies from Diagon Alley. She adamantly refused to allow anyone to go with her and told the teens to keep packing.

Sirius drew Sarah aside later that night and muttered to her quietly, “Do you still have the Mandrake leaf?”

For the past month, Sarah had been forced to keep a Mandrake leaf in her mouth as part of the process to becoming an Animagus. Her and Sirius had gone over the various steps required and he had written her out a list of reminders and materials she would need.

“Yes,” Sarah said, answering his question. She had used a Sticking Charm to keep the leaf attached to the top of her mouth. Fred had found the idea to be extremely amusing. “Are you sure I’ll be able to do all this during school?”

Sirius nodded. “I know you can,” he said. “If you have any problems, ask Minnie. She’ll be more inclined to help you considering that you’re going to register.”

“Maybe…” Sarah muttered noncommittally. 

Sirius smirked at her, a bright twinkle in his eye. “That’s my girl,” he said with a wink.

Mrs Weasley had gotten Ron a new broom in congratulations and he was telling anyone who would listen all the details of it. Unfortunately, Remus was the only person polite enough, despite having no interest in flying.

Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Sirius were talking with Harry about his dad and Sirius’ antics during school.

“Sarah! Did you know that your mum locked my dad and Sirius in the Quidditch locker rooms and stole their robes?” Harry shouted over the heads of the other guests. “They had to run back up to Gryffindor Tower in just towels!”

Sarah shot him a shit-eating grin. “You’ve been warned, Potter. Don’t piss a Jacobi off.”

Sirius and Harry let out a bark of laughter that soon got caught up in the rest of the noise in the echoing kitchen.

Sarah sighed and leant back in her chair, putting her face in Fred’s neck.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

“Got a bit of a headache,” she said, closing her eyes tighter when George let off a firework and Mrs Weasley started shouting at him. “I might head up early.”

“I’ll come with you,” he said, standing from the chair and giving her a hand up.

Sarah passed a hand through Draco’s hair as they walked behind him and whispered, “I’m heading to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You all right?” he asked in concern.

She smiled back at him. “Just a bit too loud.”

Draco nodded and watched her until she disappeared through the door with Fred on her heels.

Thankfully, the hallway was silent except for their soft steps.

Sarah collapsed gratefully on her bed and rubbed her temples when they arrived in her room.

“Wow, you actually finished packing,” Fred commented, eyeing her closed trunk against the door.

“Of course,” scoffed Sarah. “I want to sleep in as long as I can.”

The bed dipped ad Fred climbed in beside her. She wrapped herself around him and sighed in relief as the pounding in her head began to lessen.

Within minutes, she felt the comforting weight of sleep claim her.

***

_“Sarah, darling, come join me. The weather is beautiful today.”_

_Sarah stepped outside and accept the pale hand that was waiting for her._

_“Mother?” Sarah said, smiling at the familiar face that turned back to look at her._

_“Can you see the ducklings in the pond? Just down there…”_

_Her mother continued to drag Sarah forward, her thin, yellow sundress floating in the breeze. Sarah looked down and realised she was wearing a similar dress in a pale blue._

_“What are we doing, Mother?” asked Sarah as they crouched at the edge of the pond._

_“We’re watching the ducklings of course,” Evelyn laughed. It was a pretty, tinkling sound and seemed to be carried along by the wind until it echoed all around them._

_“Yes, but why are we here?” Sarah said. “Where’s father?”_

_Evelyn tutted. “Your father hasn’t been here in a very long time, darling.” She turned her bright smile on Sarah. “We’re here to celebrate you, remember? Honestly, you’d lose your head if it weren’t connected to your shoulders.”_

_Sarah smiled at the familiar phrase. Everyone knew that Evelyn was the least organised of the two. Sarah constantly had to remind her not to leave her wand lying around lest she lose it._

_“Harry and Draco will be here soon,” Evelyn continued, running one hand gently through the clear water. “James was nearly beside himself with pride – he could barely get the words out. Lily had to take over the Floo call.”_

_Sarah sat down beside her mother. “It’ll be lovely to see them again, it’s been too long,” she said. She smiled when one of the ducklings paddled closer to her, bumping her hand with its head._

_Evelyn snorted. “It was your decision to spend half the year in Venice. I thought Molly was going to explode when Fred told her how long he’d be gone.”_

_“She was only worried about the business,” Sarah countered. “George is handling it fine.”_

_“Where is Fred?” her mother asked, looking over her shoulder back toward the towering villa._

_“He said he had an errand to run,” replied Sarah. “I have no clue what he needs to do in Venice; he’s never been here before.”_

_Evelyn had a small grin on her face. “He probably wanted to find a more_ traditional _ring after the story Sirius told him last night. That man enjoys stirring trouble too much.”_

_Sarah scoffed. “The ring he got me was perfectly acceptable, so I hope not. I may have to lock Sirius outside again tonight.”_

_She glanced down at her left hand, where a simple band of pale gold sat, the arranged garnets glinting slightly in the light._

_“I can’t believe my baby girl is getting married,” Evelyn sighed, wrapping an arm around Sarah. “It feels like yesterday that you were taking your first steps.”_

_“Mother,” Sarah said, drawing out the word. “Please don’t start crying again.”_

_A bell tolled from inside the house. Loud, excited voices flowed out of the house to greet their ears._

_“That must be the Potters,” Evelyn said. She stood up and pulled Sarah to her feet. “Come, darling, we wouldn’t want to keep them waiting.”_

_Sarah began to head back to the villa when her mother’s footsteps suddenly stopped behind her._

_“Mother?” she said, turning around._

_Her mother was standing in the shifting grass, her auburn hair streaming behind her in the wind._

_“You did this.”_

_Evelyn’s voice was suddenly raspy and broken, contrasting harshly with the picturesque scene._

_“Mother – what - ?”_

_“You did this! You killed me!” her mother shrieked._

_Her previously healthy face began to decay rapidly; skin falling off the bone, great clumps of hair disappearing from her head._

_“You did this. You did this. You did this!” she continued to scream, the words getting louder and louder._

_Sarah screamed and tried to take a step back but found herself restrained. She looked around as the Italian landscape vanished to be replaced by a familiar graveyard._

_Voldemort stood before her, one white, bony hand resting on her mother’s decayed shoulder._

_“Such a shame,” he hissed. “She had so much potential.” He turned his scarlet gaze onto Sarah and her whole body froze in fear. “Just like you, Sarah. You could still join me…unless you want to end up like your mother…your friends…”_

_Bodies suddenly began to appear on the floor between them: Draco, Harry, Fred, Hermione, Ron, George, Sirius, Remus. Everyone she cared about._

_“Stop, stop,” she sobbed._

_“You had a chance,” Voldemort snarled. “Join me and live. Or die like these traitors…Your legacy can still be saved…Join me…”_

_“No! NO!” she shouted, straining against the restraints._

_She fought and cried but the bindings just tightened around her until she found it difficult to draw in breath. Tears streamed down her face as she gasped out sobs, trying not to look at bodies littered before her._

_“SARAH!”_

She shot upright, heaving for breath. Fred, Draco, Harry, Sirius and Remus were standing in front of her, watching her in concern.

Alive. They were alive. 

Nausea suddenly rose up and she scrambled to the side of the bed to empty the contents of her stomach. Immediately, hands grabbed her to keep her upright and her hair out of her face.

When she finished, she slumped back against Fred’s chest, shivering slightly. Her face was wet with tears and a cold sheen of sweat covered her body.

Remus waved his wand and vanished the mess.

“Are you all right, Sarah?” Draco asked worriedly, taking one of her hands.

Sarah shook her head and felt new tears fall down her cheeks.

“I saw my mother,” she sobbed. “I saw her. We were happy – all of us. She was alive and so was James and Lily. My father wasn’t there. But – but – but then I saw – s-saw V-V-Voldemort – “

She collapsed in on herself and cried harder.

“You were all dead! All of you,” she wept. “And it was all my fault. All my fault…”

“Hey, you’re okay. We’re all okay, pup,” Sirius said. He sat beside her on the bed and ran one large hand over hair. “Look at us, we’re fine.”

Sarah took a shuddering breath and looked up. Her breathing slowed as everyone gave her small smiles.

“You’ll be okay, pup,” Sirius whispered. She leant into his arms, Fred moving back to give her some space.

“How often does this happen?” she heard Remus as Fred.

“Most nights,” he replied quietly. “But tonight was one of the worst.”

Sarah calmed down enough to pull away from Sirius’ comforting warmth.

“I’m okay,” she said in a fragile tone. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

Everyone shouted out in disagreement. Draco’s voice cut through the other’s.

“I told you before,” he said sternly, “always wake me or any of the others up if you need to.”

Sarah nodded and took another deep breath.

“I’m good, I’m okay,” she repeated. “What time is it?”

“Just after two,” Remus replied.

Sarah sighed and rubbed her eyes. “You guys can go back to bed,” she said. “I don’t think I’ll be getting much more sleep tonight.”

“Nonsense,” Harry said. He pulled Draco on the bed with him. “We’re staying here. We’re not leaving you alone tonight.”

Sarah smiled wryly. “I have Fred,” she countered.

“Yes,” Draco drawled, “but you didn’t have me, so here I am.”

“You think very highly of yourself,” Sarah teased.

“It’s entirely your fault,” he said loftily. “You’ve always stoked my ego.”

“Dear Merlin, what have I done?” Sarah shuddered.

“We’ll leave you guys to it,” Sirius said, patting Sarah gently on the shoulder as he stood.

Remus glanced back just before he exited the door. “Try to get some sleep if you can,” he recommended. “If you aren’t, that’s okay. You can sleep on the train.”

The pair waved goodbye and disappeared, closing the door quietly behind them.

“Ugh, the train,” Sarah groaned, flopping back onto the pillows. “I had forgotten about that.”

Fred settled himself beside her as Harry and Draco made themselves comfortable at the end of the bed.

“Mum will be a right fit tomorrow,” Fred said, shaking his head slightly. “Five Galleons she ends up waking that horrid portrait up.”

Draco snorted. “Ten Galleons it’s you and your brother who cause it.”

Fred smirked and reached a hand out to run gently fingers up and down Sarah’s palm.

“Thanks for the idea, tiny terror,” he grinned.

Draco sat bolt upright.

“I’m sorry _what?”_ he cried incredulously. ” _Tiny terror_?” he turned to Sarah, “Did you know about this?”

They all collapsed into laughter as Draco continued to rant about his nickname. Sarah felt a warmth blossom in her chest as she watched her boys tease each other and cheer her up without effort.

Before long, she had sunk comfortably into the mattress and felt the tiring result of the nightmare catch up to her. She fell asleep halfway through Draco’s tirade.

***

Draco cut off what he was saying as Sarah’s head dropped off her hand and onto her pillow.

“I’m sure my reasoning wasn’t _that_ boring,” he whispered, trying to fight the relief that was coursing through his body.

Fred was looking down at his girlfriend with sharp, brown eyes. Despite how long the two had been dating, Draco was still somewhat wary of the older boy. He wanted the best for Sarah and would not hesitate to destroy the Weasley if he hurt her. So far, however, he had shown to be an excellent boyfriend. Draco would never admit it, but part of him was slightly disappointed he didn’t have a reason to hex someone into oblivion.

“We better leave,” Harry suggested. He placed a warm hand on Draco’s arm and Draco tried to contain the shiver that went through his body at the touch.

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Fred promised, nodding at the two of them.

Draco hesitated slightly. This nightmare had been horrible. His heart had nearly stopped when he heard Sarah’s terrified screams cutting through the night. He and Harry had raced into her room to find Fred trying to stop her from smashing herself in the face with her own thrashing hands. And what she had said…that she had seen her mother and Voldemort….

That thought alone was enough to make him feel ill. Harry tugged gently on Draco’s arm and he reluctantly got off the bed.

“Get us if _anything_ happens,” he told Fred as Harry led him toward the door.

Fred nodded at him, his expression unusually sombre.

Draco sighed loudly once he and Harry had retreated into his room. Harry pulled him close to his chest and ran a hand up and down his back.

“She’ll be okay,” he whispered, dropping a kiss to Draco’s blond hair. “She’s strong.”

“I know,” Draco replied. He wrapped his arms around Harry’s thin waist. Harry had finally caught up to him in height; his startling green eyes now stared directly into Draco’s silver ones. “It just hurts me that _she’s_ hurting.”

Harry nodded in understanding. “She went through something horrible,” he said.

“So did you,” Draco muttered, tightening his grip on his boyfriend.

“She’s just reacting to it differently,” Harry said. “We just need to be there for her.”

“I’ll always be there for her,” Draco stressed. “I don’t care when or where – I’ll be there.”

“I know you will,” Harry smiled. He pressed a soft kiss to Draco’s lips. “That’s what makes you a good person.”

“Only to some people,” Draco drawled. “Not everyone deserves the effort this _good person_ thing requires.”

Harry quirked an eyebrow. “Does that mean I should be honoured you put in the effort with me?”

“Of course you should be honoured,” scoffed Draco. “It’s extremely tiring.”

Harry’s eyes lit up suddenly. “I can think of something else to tire you out,” he whispered in Draco’s ear.

Draco shivered slightly. “And what might that be, _Potter_?” he asked, raising one pale eyebrow in challenge.

Harry grinned devilishly before pulling Draco in for a crushing kiss. Draco let out an embarrassing moan but pulled Harry closer, pressing his body flush to the other boy’s. Harry groaned in response and tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss.

Draco pulled back and gasped for breath as Harry moved from his mouth to press kisses up and down his neck.

“Merlin,” Draco panted. Harry latched onto a sensitive spot on where his neck met his shoulder and Draco arched his back.

“Off,” he demanded, pulling at Harry’s shirt.

Harry quickly raised his arm and the offending garment disappeared behind them. Draco ran his hands up and down Harry’s chest and back, feeling Harry’s quick intake of breath beneath his hands. The years of intense Quidditch training had left Harry with a lean, muscled figure, although he was still slightly too thin for Draco’s liking.

Draco pushed that thought to the back of his mind as Harry divested him of his own shirt and leant down to suck gently on his collarbone. Draco pushed a hand through Harry’s thick curls and bit down on his lip to stop from moaning lightly.

He pushed them back until they stumbled toward the bed, falling in a heap on the soft comforter. Harry immediately clambered on top of Draco, licking and kissing up and down his chest.

“Can I?” he asked, one hand toying with the waistband of Draco’s pyjama bottoms.

“Yes,” Draco panted.

Soon, they were both naked and writhing against each other, waves of pleasure rolling through them.

Draco flipped them over at one point and bore his weight down on Harry, causing the other boy to groan loudly.

A few minutes of erratic thrusting later, Harry stiffened and let out a low, keening noise. Draco dropped his head down to Harry’s shoulder as he followed the other boy over the edge, his body tensing and relaxing in the same second, pleasure flooding through his veins.

Draco rolled off Harry and lay beside him, sated and sweaty.

“Feeling tired yet?” Harry teased.

Draco couldn’t help it, he burst into uncontrollable giggles. Harry soon followed and they lay there, laughing madly in the afterglow.

“You’re ridiculous, Harry,” Draco said fondly, scrounging for his wand to clean them up.

“Yes,” agreed Harry, curling himself against Draco’s side after they had pulled on their pyjama bottoms. “But you still keep me around.”

“No idea why,” Draco muttered. He smiled into Harry’s hair and the other boy poked him in the ribs.

They soon dropped off in a peaceful slumber, secure in each other’s arms.


	4. Chapter Four

“So, are we just supposed to pretend that Draco doesn’t have a giant bloody _love bite_ on his neck?” Sarah said at breakfast.

Harry, who had just been taking a sip of pumpkin juice, promptly choked and glared at his friend. He had hoped that his and Draco’s activities last night hadn’t been that obvious, but Sarah had taken one look at the both of them and raised a dark eyebrow, a smirk breaking out across her face.

“ _Sarah_!” hissed Draco from beside Harry.

Sirius, meanwhile, let out a bark of laughter and nearly fell off his chair.

“Damn, pup, you don’t hold your punches do you?” he laughed, leaning over to ruffle Sarah’s hair.

Thankfully, it was only them and Remus in the room. Everyone else was still sleeping or packing last minute.

“That does raise the question of whether we need to be having a certain talk with the pair of you,” Remus said from across the table, glancing at Harry and Draco.

Harry felt his face go warm and Sarah’s mischievous smirk didn’t help.

“No…” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact with either of the adults.

“Good thing I wrote you a letter then!” Sirius announced. He produced two thick letters with a dramatic flourish and Remus rolled his eyes at him. Sirius handed one of the letters to Harry and the other to Sarah, who raised an eyebrow at the dark-haired man. “What?” he said, “Did you think that I’d only give the boys the talk? You have a boyfriend, too!”

Sarah blushed slightly, the colour sitting high on her cheeks.

Sirius continued in a joyful voice, “In there is everything you’ll need to know about ins-and-outs of sex. If you’ve got any questions, just owl me. Although, I think I managed to cover everything.”

Harry knew that his face reflected Draco’s and Sarah’s, both of whom were doing an admirable job of replicating a pissed off Weasley.

“I also went to the liberty to add some things I think will be useful,” Sirius went on. He was smirking widely at the teenagers’ discomfort. “And I know I’m no artist but I threw in some diagrams to help you understand some positions – “

“STOP!” Sarah, Harry and Draco shouted in unison.

Sirius let out his bark of laughter and clutched his stomach. Remus was trying very hard to contain the smile that was tugging at his lips. When Sarah turned her glare onto him, he raised his hands and said quickly, “I had nothing to do with this. I was just planning on sitting you down and talking.”

“I think we need another opinion for Sarah,” Sirius said, tapping his chin with one finger. “Two gay men trying to teach her the complexities of heterosexual sex…might not cover all the bases if you know what I mean?”

“No!” Sarah said quickly. “That’s unnecessary. I appreciate the thought, though.”

“Come on,” wheedled Sirius. “Surely you’re starting to think about these things. I mean, _I_ definitely was at your age.”

Sarah just groaned pitifully and dropped her head to the table.

“What are you guys talking about?” Fred said suddenly as he entered the room.

Harry and Sarah both shoved the letters away and blushed identical shades of red.

“Nothing!” they practically shouted.

“Oo-kay,” Fred said, drawing out the word and looking between their red faces in confusion. “I came down to warn you that mum is on a warpath – make sure your trunks are ready to go.”

“Okay, thank you, babe,” Sarah said quickly.

Fred, still looking slightly suspicious, leant down and kissed Sarah quickly. Harry laughed as she stuck her middle finger up at Sirius’ snickers.

Fred was right. Mrs Weasley was on a warpath. She burst into the kitchen in a cloud of red hair and anxiety and ushered them all into motion. Despite the fact that Draco had already made Harry pack _and_ bring his trunk down, Mrs Weasley insisted on them checking their rooms for any leftover items.

“Sirius and Remus can just owl us – “ Sarah tried but Mrs Weasley cut her off.

“I don’t care,” she said in a frenzied tone. “Just check.”

There was a lot of commotion in the house. From what Harry had gathered, Fred and George had bewitched their trunks to fly downstairs to save the bother of carrying them, with the result that they had hurtled straight into Ginny and knocked her down two flights of stairs into the hall; Mrs Black and Mrs Weasley were both screaming at the top of their voices.

“ – COULD HAVE DONE HER A SERIOUS INJURY, YOU IDIOTS – “

” – FILTHY HALF-BREEDS, BESMIRCHING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS – “

“Guess I won that bet,” Draco muttered in Harry’s ear as they made their way downstairs.

They passed Sarah, who was rating the descriptors Mrs Black was using.

“Besmirching – very nice,” she said as the old woman kept shrieking, “Can I recommend vitiate or putrefy?”

She shot Harry a wink as Mrs Black took her suggestions in stride.

“Sarah! Stop giving that hag any ideas!” Sirius shouted from over the grouped heads.

“Harry, you’re to come with me and Tonks,” shouted Mrs Weasley over the repeated screeches of “ _MUDBLOODS! SCUM! PUTREFYING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS!” “_ Leave your trunk and your owl, Alastor’s going to deal with the luggage…Oh, for heaven’s sake, Sirius, Dumbledore said no!”

Sirius had appeared beside them in his black, bearlike dog form.

“Do you think Mrs Black knows that Sarah is teasing her?” Draco said as they waded through the piles of trunks in the entry hall.

“Probably not,” grinned Harry. He didn’t get time to say anything else before Mrs Weasley was ushering them out the front door was an exasperated look at Sirius.

It was extremely silent without the Mrs Blacks shouts. Sirius looked overjoyed to be outside; he was running up and down the pavement, chasing birds and stopping randomly to allow strangers to pet him.

“Where’s Tonks?” Harry asked.

“She’s waiting for us just up here,” said Mrs Weasley stiffly, averting her eyes from the lolloping black dog beside Draco.

An old woman greeted them on the corner. She had tightly curled grey hair and wore a purple hat shaped like a porkpie.

“Wotcher, Harry,” she said, winking. “Better hurry up, hadn’t we, Molly?” she added, checking her watch.

“I know, I know,” moaned Mrs Weasley, lengthening her stride, “but Mad-Eye was wanted to wait for Sturgis…If only Arthur could have got us cars from the Ministry again…but Fudge wouldn’t let him borrow so much as an empty ink bottle these days… _How_ Muggles can stand travelling without magic…”

It took them twenty minutes to reach King’s Cross by foot and nothing more eventful happened during that time than Sirius scaring a couple of casts for Harry and Draco’s entertainment. Once inside the station they lingered casually beside the barrier between platforms nine and ten until the coast was clear, then each of them leaned against it in turn and fell easily through onto platform nine and three quarters, where the Hogwarts Express stood belching sooty steam over a platform packed with departing students and their families.

“I hope the others make it in time,” said Mrs Weasley anxiously, staring behind her at the wrought-iron arch spanning the platform, through which new arrivals would come.

“Nice dog, Harry!” called a tall boy with dreadlocks.

“Thanks, Lee,” said Harry, grinning, as Sirius wagged his tail frantically.

“Oh good,” said Mrs Weasley, sounding relieved, “here’s Alastor with the luggage, look…”

“Can you tell the others we’ll be on the train?” Draco asked Mrs Weasley.

She nodded and hugged them both distractedly. Tonks clapped them both on the shoulders and winked. Sirius jumped up licked them both on the faces, causing both boys to grimace and swat him away.

Harry grabbed his trunk and followed Draco to an empty compartment.

“Hopefully, the other’s don’t take too long,” Draco said, hoisting his trunk into the luggage rack.

“Do you really think we needed to be that careful?” Harry asked curiously, taking a seat beside his boyfriend.

Draco pursed his lips slightly. “It doesn’t hurt to be prepared,” he eventually replied.

Ron and Hermione were the next to appear.

“There you are,” Ron said, putting his trunk away. “We were wondering where you got to.”

“No problems?” Harry asked.

“Nah, mum’s just being paranoid,” Ron said.

Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly.

“We’re – er – meant to go to the prefects carriage, remember, Ron, Draco?” she said.

“Oh,” said Harry. “Right. That’s okay.”

Draco looked extremely put out.

“I’ll come back as soon as I can,” he promised. “I don’t want to patrol the corridors.”

“Draco, you can’t just – “ started Hermione.

“It’s fine, Hermione, you’ll be out there,” Draco said, waving a hand. “I’d much rather be here with Harry.”

“Go,” Harry said with a small smile. “You don’t want to be late.”

Draco grimaced but stood, placing a quick kiss to his cheek before disappearing with Ron.

Harry sat back against the seat and stared out the window dejectedly, feeling suddenly quite alone.

***

“Merlin, what’s got you in such a slump?” Sarah exclaimed as she hauled open the compartment door to find Harry sitting against the window, scowling.

The boy jumped and turned to face Sarah, his expression immediately brightening.

“Draco, Ron and Hermione had to go to the prefects carriage,” he explained as Sarah took the seat beside him. “I thought you might’ve sat with Fred.”

“Nonsense,” Sarah said. “When have I ever not sat with you on the way there?”

Harry smiled brightly at her and couldn’t help but grin in return.

“I already saw Blaise and the others,” Sarah continued. She put her feet up on the seat opposite her and crossed her ankles. “He’s in a piss because Pansy got prefect and wasn’t there to listen to him complain about his newest stepfather.”

“Do Millicent and Theo ignore him?” Harry asked.

“Nah, they just don’t care enough for him to deem it necessary to talk about,” Sarah smirked.

The compartment door slid open to reveal Ginny and Neville Longbottom.

“Hey, can we sit with you guys?” Ginny asked.

“Sure,” Sarah said, waving a hand at the free seats. “Neville, what on _earth_ is that?”

The round-face Gryffindor boy was holding what appeared to be a small grey cactus in a pot, except it was covered in what looked like boils rather than spines.

“ _Mimbulus mimbletonia,”_ Neville said proudly.

“Right,” said Sarah evenly. “And what is that exactly?”

She stared at the thing. It was pulsating slightly, giving it the rather sinister look of some diseased internal organ.

“It’s really, really rare,” said Neville, beaming. “I don’t know if there’s one in the greenhouse at Hogwarts, even. I can’t wait to show it to Professor Sprout. My great-uncle Algie got it for me in Assyria. I’m going to see if I can breed from it.”

“Does it – er – do anything?” Harry asked politely.

“Loads of stuff!” said Neville proudly. “It’s got an amazing defensive mechanism – “

At that moment, the compartment door opened again and a willowy, blond-haired girl stepped into the doorway.

“Hello,” she said in a dreamy voice. “May I sit with you?”

Ginny moved over in her seat. “Of course you can, Luna.”

Sarah blinked in recognition. Blaise had taken Luna to the Yule Ball the previous year.

“How was your summer, Luna?” Sarah asked.

“Very pleasant, thank you, Sarah,” Luna said. Her pale, protuberant eyes were staring unblinkingly around the cabin. “That’s a very nice plant you have there, Neville.”

“Er – thanks, Loon – er – Luna,” Neville said, flushing slightly. “I was just about to show them the defensive mechanisms. Here, Harry, hold Trevor.”

He dumped his toad – which Sarah could never comprehend why one, he would want a toad and two, why he would call it _Trevor_ – into Harry’s lap and took a quill from his schoolbag. Luna lowered down the upside-down magazine she had taken out of her bag to watch Neville in interest. Neville held the _Mimbulus mimbletonia_ up to his eyes, his tongue between his teeth, chose his spot, and gave the plant a sharp prod with the tip of his quill.

Liquid squirted from every boil on the plant, thick, stinking, dark green jets of it; they hit the ceiling, the windows, and spattered Luna’s magazine. Sarah gagged as she lowered her arms. She and Ginny had managed to cover themselves enough so that the foul liquid only coated their hair and laps. But Harry, whose hands had been busy preventing the escape of Trevor, received a face full. It smelled like rancid manure.

Neville, whose face and torso were also drenched, shook his head to get the worst of it out of his eyes.

“S-sorry,” he gasped. “I haven’t tried that before…Didn’t realise it would be quote so…Don’t worry, though, Stinksap’s don’t poisonous,” he added nervously, as Harry spat a mouthful onto the floor.

At that precise moment, the door of their compartment slid open.

“Oh…hello, Harry,” said a nervous voice. “Um…bad time?”

Sarah glanced up to see Cho Change, the Seeker on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. She seemed to have developed an attraction to Harry. For some reason, the girl hadn’t seemed to get the message that Harry was gay and dating Draco.

“Oh…hi,” said Harry flatly. He wiped the lenses of his glasses with his Trevor-free hand to avoid looking Cho in the eye.

“Can we do something for you?” Sarah asked with as much dignity possible for someone covering in Stinksap.

“Um…” said Cho. “Well…I just thought I’d say hello…”

“Well, you’ve done so,” replied Sarah. “Unfortunately, we seem to be in a bit of situation at the moment…”

“Er – yes…I’ll just go then,” Cho said.

“If you see Draco on the way back, can you warn him please?” Sarah said sweetly. “He may not want to kiss his boyfriend when he’s covered in sap.”

Cho blinked repeatedly before stuttering out an acceptance and leaving quickly.

“Did you have to be so direct?” Harry muttered to Sarah, looking uncomfortable.

“Of course I did,” Sarah said tersely. “She had to know you were taken. It’s better for everyone.”

Ginny pulled her wand out and said, “ _Scourgify!”_

The Stinksap thankfully vanished.

“Sorry,” said Neville again, in a small voice.

“Don’t worry about it, Neville,” Sarah said kindly. “I’m sure it won’t be the last time something unexpectedly explodes over us.”

Draco, Ron and Hermione did not turn up for nearly an hour, by which the food trolley had already gone by. Sarah was busy trying to throw Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans in Ginny’s mouth when the compartment door slid open and Draco stepped through.

“Why did a Ravenclaw girl tell me that you were all covered in stinking sap?” he said in greeting.

“Ah, so you ran into Cho,” Sarah noted.

“We had a mishap with Neville’s plant,” Harry explained, looking very happy now that his boyfriend was sitting next to him.

“And this Cho knew that how…?” Draco prompted.

Harry blushed as Sarah laughed. “She came here to say hello to Harry,” Sarah explained, smirking. “I calmly asked her to relay the message to you as you may have been hesitant to snog your boyfriend while he was covered in the horrid substance.”

“How’d she take it?” Draco asked with a harsh smile. He burrowed deeper against Harry’s side.

“Surprisingly well-composed,” remarked Sarah. “I was hoping for more of a reaction.”

“That’s horrible, Sarah!” Hermione said disapprovingly. “It’s not Cho’s fault she was…slightly oblivious…”

“Oblivious, Hermione?” Sarah raised an eyebrow. “It’s not like Harry and Draco were particularly secretive. They snogged in public more than Fred and I did!”

Hermione couldn’t argue with that. Her lips twitched slightly but she managed to fight down the smile.

“I’m starving,” said Ron, stowing Pigwidgeon – the owl Sirius had given him – next to Hedwig and grabbing a Chocolate Frog.

“How was the meeting?” Sarah asked, pushing Ron’s feet when he tried to rest them on her.

“Boring,” Ron said as Hermione said, “Quite interesting, actually.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “We mainly just listened to the Head Boy and Girl talk to us about our responsibilities.”

“Who’s the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw prefects?” Harry asked.

“Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott,” started Ron.

“And Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw,” finished Hermione.

“You went to the Yule Ball with Padma Patil,” said a vague voice.

Everyone turned to look at Luna Lovegood, who was gazing unblinkingly at Ron over the top of the magazine, which turned out to be _The Quibbler_. He swallowed his mouthful of Frog.

“Yeah, I know I did,” he said, looking mildly surprised.

“She didn’t enjoy it very much,” Luna informed him. “She doesn’t think you treated her very well, because you wouldn’t dance with her. I don’t think I’d have minded,” she added thoughtfully, “I don’t like dancing very much.”

She retreated behind _The Quibbler_ again. Ron stared at the cover with his mouth hanging open for a few seconds, then looked around at Ginny for some kind of explanation, but Ginny had stuffed her knuckles in her mouth to stop herself giggling.

“She’s got a point you know,” added Sarah mildly.

“What d’you mean?” Ron said.

“Well, you didn’t treat anyone particularly well that night,” she said with a pointed look at the redhead. He had the decency to blush darkly.

The weather remained undecided as they travelled farther and farther north. Rain spattered the windows in a half-hearted way, then the sun put in a feeble appearance before clouds drifted over it once more. When darkness fell, the lamps came on inside the carriages, dimly lighting the space. Sarah dozed in Draco’s lap while he slept on Harry’s shoulder; the three of them quite tired after their interrupted sleep the night before.

Sarah woke up to Hermione’s voice saying, “We better change.”

She groggily got into her robes and tried to force her eyes to stay open. She had no idea how she would make it through the feast.

At last, the train began to slow down and they heard the usual racket up and down it as everybody scrambled to get their luggage and pets assembled, ready for departure. Ron, Hermione and Draco were supposed to supervise all this; they disappeared from the carriage again, leaving Sarah, Harry and the others to look after Crookshanks and Pigwidgeon. Sarah carefully put her Elf owl, Sphinx under one arm and the other dragged her trunk.

“I’ll carry that owl, if you like,” said Luna to Harry, reaching out for Pigwidgeon as Neville stowed Trevor carefully in an inside pocket.

“Oh – er – thanks,” said Harry, handing her the cage and hoisting Hedwig’s more securely into his arms.

They shuffled out of the compartment feeling the first sting of the night air on their faces as they joined the crowd in the corridor. A hand suddenly appeared and relieved Sarah of her trunk. She turned to see Fred grinning down at her, his own trunk in his other hand.

“Hey, babe,” he said. “Thought you might need a hand.”

“Thank you,” Sarah said gratefully, shifting to hold Sphinx’s cage more securely.

“Where’s the tiny terror?” Fred asked, glancing around for Draco.

“Doing prefect duties,” Harry said glumly.

“Ah, don’t be sad, Harry,” Fred smirked. “He’ll be back in your clutches in no time…”

They stepped down onto the platform and looked around. Instead of the usual sound of Hagrid’s booming voice, a brisk female was calling, “First years line up over here, please! All first years to me!”

A lantern came swinging toward Sarah and by its light she saw the prominent chin and severe haircut of Professor Grubbly-Plank, the witch who had taken over Hagrid’s Care of Magical Creatures lessons for a while the previous year after backlash of one of Rita Skeeter’s articles.

“Where’s Hagrid?” Harry said out loud.

“No idea,” said Sarah, “we better hurry, we’re blocking the door.”

They hurried toward where the hundreds of horseless stagecoaches were waiting to take the students up to the castle. Harry looked around for Draco, Hermione and Ron, then did a double take and suddenly froze.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” Sarah muttered.

“What are those?” he whispered, pointing toward the coaches.

“Er – coaches?” Sarah replied, frowning slightly.

“You can’t see them?” he said. He was staring directly at the front of the coaches. “They’re pulling the coaches.”

“Harry…” Sarah said slowly. “There’s nothing there.”

The crowd surged around them and pushed them toward the coaches.

“Let’s go, tell me what you see inside,” she said, ushering Harry into one of the coaches. Fred, Ginny, and Luna followed quickly behind her.

Harry strained his neck to keep looking at whatever had caught his attention.

“What do you see, Harry?” Sarah asked.

“The horses – they’re pulling the carriages – “ he said, sounding slightly frantic. “Can’t – can’t you see them?”

“No, I can’t,” Sarah replied, exchanging a look with Fred. “What do they look like?”

Harry was about to respond when Luna’s dreamy voice said, “It’s all right. You’re not going mad or anything, I can see them too.”

“Can you?” said Harry desperately, turning to Luna.

“Oh yes,” said Luna, “I’ve been able to see them ever since my first day here. They’ve always pulled the carriages. Don’t worry. You’re just as sane as I am.”

Harry didn’t look very comforted by this thought. The carriage began to move, bumbling over the rough ground and toward the castle.

“What do they look like, Harry?” Sarah asked curiously.

“You believe me?” he said hopefully.

“Of course, I do,” she assured. “Describe them to me.”

Harry burst into an explanation of the skeletal horses that had dragonish heads and pupil-less white eyes. They had vast, black leathery wings similar to those of a bat. Sarah listened in interest as Harry described them, sounding less and less distressed as he talked.

“And you didn’t see them last year?” she clarified.

“No,” he said, much more relaxed now. “That’s why they freaked me out.”

“Hmm,” Sarah said, thinking hard. She’d have to go to the library to do some research on the mysterious creatures.

“You’ve got your thinking face on,” Fred commented, poking her cheek. “What’re you planning.”

“What? Oh, nothing,” she said, smiling at him. “I just think it would be really interesting to research…”

“Nerd,” he said fondly, kissing her cheek.


	5. Chapter Five

The Great Hall quickly filled with chattering students. Sarah waved goodbye to Harry, Fred and the others before taking a seat beside Blaise at the Slytherin table. Within minutes, they were joined by Pansy and Draco, both of whom were looking harassed and grumpy.

“Who would have guessed that the younger years were so _rude_?” Pansy huffed, sliding in next to Millicent. The other girl offered her girlfriend a quick kiss on the cheek before turning back to her conversation with Theo.

“Did they not appreciate your superiority, Pans?” Blaise drawled.

Pansy’s dark red lips titled down into a pout.

“The little snots were horribly atrocious to us,” she sniffed. “Granger only had some luck because she’s bloody terrifying sometimes.”

“Too true that…” muttered Sarah. She turned her attention to the staff table and noticed a women entirely clothed in pink sitting beside Professor Snape. “Who the hell is that?” she said, her lip curling in disgust at the woman’s outfit. A large, black bow sat atop her head. With her toad-like appearance, the bow looked like a fly poised for capture.

Draco groaned pitifully. “It’s the horrid Umbridge woman,” he said. “She’s Senior Undersecretary to Fudge, remember? Father used to deal with her whenever he had business with Fudge.”

Sarah frowned. “I remember her now, she’s putrid.”

Draco nodded in agreement. He worried his bottom lip for a moment, his gaze darting to the Gryffindor table and back. “I wonder why she’s here?” he asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Millicent said, joining their conversation. “She’s the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

“No…” Sarah breathed in horror. Another scan of the staff table confirmed the fact. “What was Dumbledore _thinking_?”

“Apparently, he hasn’t been doing a lot of that,” Draco muttered bitterly. Draco was still pissed about Dumbledore’s treatment of Harry, a sentiment that Sarah could share.

The feast passed abysmally slowly. The only interesting thing that happened was Dolores Umbridge interrupting Dumbledore’s speech and going on a Ministry-approved rant that left Sarah half-asleep on Blaise’s shoulder.

“The bitch is interfering at Hogwarts,” Draco snarled when Umbridge had finally sat down.

Sarah and Blaise jerked awake, blinking in confusion.

“What?” she said, rubbing her eyes.

“Umbridge,” Draco repeated. “She’s here so that the Ministry can interfere with Hogwarts. I don’t reckon Fudge was too impressed with Dumbledore after last year.”

“Hmm,” hummed Sarah, remembering Fudge’s purple face as he argued with Dumbledore about Voldemort’s return. “Guess we’ll have to watch ourselves then.”

“Merlin, this is getting ridiculous,” Millicent huffed. She leant around Pansy and punched Draco in the arm. “Just once, I’d like a normal year at Hogwarts without your Gryffindor causing havoc or evil teachers.”

Draco rubbed his arm. “It’s not _my_ fault Harry attracts trouble!” he said indignantly. “Most of the time he doesn’t even actively go looking for it!”

“Most of the time,” Millicent snorted.

“Come on, Draco,” Pansy said, standing up and pulling Draco to his feet. “We have to deal with the midgets.”

“They’re first years, Pansy!” Theo called to her retreating back, “First years! Not midgets!”

Pansy threw a two fingered gesture over her shoulder at him. Millicent cackled with laughter.

“They are rather small, aren’t they?” Millicent remarked, smirking at the small group of students who looked fearfully up at Draco and Pansy.

Sarah mussed Draco’s hair up as they passed and he shot her a scowl.

“Don’t be afraid of this softy,” she said to the first years with a wink.

“Yeah,” came Fred’s voice from behind her. Sarah turned to see him smirking at the first years. He slung an arm around his waist and added in a conspiratorial whisper, “Be worried about his boyfriend. He took down a dragon once!”

“Fred!” Sarah admonished, slapping her boyfriend gently. “Ignore him,” she said to the trembling students, “Harry’s harmless.”

“Tell that to the dragon,” Fred added in stage-whisper.

“Alright, enough of that,” Draco said sternly. “Follow me, please.”

He and Pansy marched off with the nervous first years as the rest of the school began to exit the Hall.

“Be careful or he’ll throw you in detention,” Sarah said to Fred, threading her arm through his.

Fred snorted. “As if – He’s too worried about finding a Puking Pastille in his sweets.”

Sarah laughed and waved at Harry as he walked past with Neville.

“You coming to Gryffindor?” Fred asked as they stopped to the side of the entrance hall.

Sarah shook her head. “Blaise has already demanded that I be in Slytherin tonight. I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow, though.”

“All right,” Fred grinned. He leant down and pulled her face up for a kiss.

It was interrupted by Professor McGonagall’s voice shouting, “Mr Weasley! Miss Deaumont! I expect you to show proper conduct instead of acting like uncontrollable degenerates.”

Sarah drew back with a groan as Fred winked at Professor McGonagall and said in a cheeky tone, “Well we certainly wouldn’t want that, would we, Professor?”

Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes and shook her head, continuing to oversee students out of the entrance hall.

“I’m going to go before another professor comments on my love life,” Sarah said. She gave Fred one last hug, flashing George the finger when he appeared and made kissing faces at her. “Control your twin,” she called over her shoulder as she descended towards the dungeons.

She found Draco, Pansy, Millicent, Blaise and Theo all sitting in a circle in the boy’s dormitory. Crabbe and Goyle’s curtains were thankfully closed.

“What’s this I hear about you and your paramour engaging in a display of public indecency in the entrance hall?” Blaise trilled from his reclined position next to Theo. “Darling, you should have told me. I would have _loved_ a show.”

Sarah flopped down beside Draco and rolled her eyes at the dark-skinned boy.

“We all know you’re into voyeurism, darling,” she drawled. “But, alas, the show was not _indecent_. He was merely kissing me goodnight and McGonagall shouted at us.”

“Ah, to be cock-blocked by Minnie,” Blaise said dramatically, wiping fake tears from his eyes. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Ugh, Blaise, I do _not_ want to hear about the times McGonagall stopped you from doing something revolting,” Pansy shuddered.

“Just because you don’t understand the appeal of cock doesn’t mean that others are so unfortunate,” Blaise grinned back.

Theo slapped him hard around the head as everyone burst out in protest, pleading for him to stop talking.

“All right, all right,” he gasped, trying to fight off the headlock Millie had him in, “I digress – we all have individual and unique tastes. Please, stop choking me, Millie, it’s not one of my favourite kinks.”

Draco threw a pillow at Blaise which knocked him back to the floor with an “ _oomph”._

“Shall we get started?” Theo suggested. He reached behind him and withdrew a few bottles of Firewhiskey from his bag. “I managed to get the good stuff this time, not the vile substance Blaise made us ingest last year.”

“Theodore, you are remarkable!” Pansy exclaimed, eagerly leaning forward to grab a shot from Theo.

Sarah cheersed her glass with Draco and with a grimace, swallowed it in one go.

***

“Oh wow, you look dreadful.”

Sarah groaned pitifully and shifted her head so that it was lying more comfortable on her arms.

“Thank you, Hermione, for that astute observation,” she said in a croaky voice. “Can you turn the sunlight down please?”

“Are you hungover?” Hermione said incredulously, sliding into the seat beside Sarah at the Slytherin table. Sarah couldn’t see her expression but she knew the other girl would have a disapproving look on her face.

Theo groaned from across the table, his posture mimicking Sarah’s.

“That means he’s asking you to speak slightly lower,” Sarah translated, her words muffled by her robes.

Hermione tutted disapprovingly. “You shouldn’t be drinking in school, you know.”

“Hermione, I love you but I am in unimaginable amounts of pain,” Sarah said, finally lifting her head enough to stare blearily at her friend. “If you can’t assist me then please sit quietly and tell Blaise that he is a worthless scoundrel when you see him.”

“Worthless scoundrel?” a bright voice said from behind them. “You wound me, Sarah.”

Blaise looked far too bubbly after the night of drinking they all had.

Pansy pulled herself up from her prone position on Theo’s shoulders, the boy in question still unmoving, and glared at Blaise.

“Why the fuck do you look like you’ve got sunlight shooting out of your ass?” she snapped.

Blaise’s blinding grin widened. He reached into his pocket and withdrew multiple small vials.

“I come prepared with the Elixir of life, of course,” he said. He placed a vial in front of each of the hungover students and Sarah eagerly snatched hers up. She grimaced at the horrid feeling of brief nausea and then breathed a sigh of relief when her headache disappeared.

“You would have known that if you had listened to me last night,” Blaise continued, one perfect eyebrow quirked. “Hello, Hermione. Don’t you look ravishing today?”

Hermione ignored Blaise’s predatory smile and settled an impressed look on him.

“I hear that you’re to blame for this,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Only giving the people what they want, gorgeous,” Blaise replied with a tilted grin. “I could give you what you want if you give me the chance?”

“Ignore him, Hermione,” Sarah said. She pushed Blaise further down the table when he tried to sit in between her and Hermione. “Blaise will flirt with anything that works. It’s amazing his dick hasn’t broken off already because he stuck it in the wrong place.”

Hermione blushed a bright red and looked slightly scandalised.

Blaise swooned onto Sarah’s shoulder. “You would patch me up wouldn’t you, darling?” he asked with a pout. “You’d never leave me to forever mourn my nightly escapades.”

Sarah snorted. Pansy looked up suddenly, the Hangover Cure having done its job admirably.

“Speaking of nightly escapades, has anyone seen Draco?” she said. “Last I remember he said something about going to find Potter and then he disappeared.”

“Oh, Merlin, I remember that,” Sarah groaned. Pansy and Millicent had been snogging on Draco’s bed when Draco had suddenly stood up and announced he was lonely and wanted to snog his own boyfriend. Sarah had been too drunk to do more than laugh and wish him luck on his journey, before collapsing in a heap on Blaise’s bed with him and Theo, both of whom were determined to prove that they could best the other by removing their ties without their using their hands.

Sarah was still struggling to get the image of Theo and Blaise using their teeth to remove each other’s ties until Theo finally managed it, causing Blaise to fall backwards off the bed.

“He wasn’t in the dorm this morning,” Theo added. He had filled his plate with copious amounts of bacon. Pansy was stealing pieces from the pile when he wasn’t looking, leaving the boy looking down in confusion before adding more bacon.

At that moment, the Hall doors opened and Harry, Ron and Draco entered. Sarah stared at the blond, who was wearing a Gryffindor scarf wound tightly around his neck.

“Judging by that scarf, I’d say that Draco made it to his prize,” she said wryly.

As the three boys made their way over to the Slytherin table, a blush began to rise up Draco’s neck.

“Nice scarf, Draco,” Blaise said in greeting. Draco’s face went a pale pink and he refused to look any of them in the eye. “I take it you managed to find your way without issue, then.”

“The journey was quite eventful, yes,” Draco said in an even tone, his lips twitching slightly.

Pansy suddenly sprung forward and pulled the scarf off.

Blaise whistled. “Damn, Potter, what are you, a vampire?”

Large purple and red blotches covered Draco’s neck on both sides. Draco and Harry were both blushing a dark red as the table collapsed into laughter.

“I bruise easily,” Draco said stiffly. “Besides, I was distracted.”

“Oh, we can imagine,” Blaise leered. “Was he so good that you missed the part when he mauled your neck.”

Harry went an even deeper red and hid his head in his hands. Ron made a pained sound and began to shovel food into his mouth.

“As a matter of fact, Blaise,” Draco said with a smirk. “I quite enjoyed that bit.” He turned to Pansy and said sweetly, “Darling, may I have my scarf back now?”

Pansy’s eyes were light with humour as she handed the scarf back to Draco, who wound it once again around his neck.

“I hope you all didn’t get up to anything untoward after I left?” Draco said, calmly digging into his food.

“No,” Sarah replied. “Although, now I know Blaise is a fan of restraints. Also, I think Pansy and Millicent may have shagged on your bed.”

Draco chose to ignore the comment about Blaise and instead turned to the two unapologetic girls, his eyes wide in disbelief.

“What?” Pansy said flippantly. “If you get to have a shag than so do I. It just so happened we were already on your bed. It’s not like we could’ve moved to one of the others when Sarah and the boys were occupying them.”

“But my sheets!” Draco said in outrage. “They were silk!”

Pansy scoffed. “And you’re telling me you’ve never done something like that on your silk sheets? Please, Draco, Blaise tells us you’re loud.”

Draco flushed a delicate pink again.

“Can we please stop talking about my boyfriend and sex now?” Harry asked slightly desperately.

Pansy cocked her head at him like a cat watching its prey. “Why, Potter? Scared you’ll have some expectations to live up to?”

Harry blinked quickly before saying, “Actually, I know I’ve already exceeded expectations. I just meant that I think Ron’s going to be ill.”

He was right. Ron’s face a pale green and he looked to be in immense pain.

“I should’ve just stayed in bed,” he muttered. Harry slapped his back and shot him an apologetic look.

“Sorry, mate,” he said. “I forget what the Slytherins were like.”

“You’re literally dating one!” Blaise said in exasperation. “And you spend all your free time with another!”

Harry shrugged. “Sarah and Draco I can deal with,” he said. “A combination of all of you takes some getting used to.”

“Touché, Potter, touché.”

Professor Snape soon came around with their timetables and the Gryffindors bid them goodbye to go collect their own.

“Double Charms, Potions and DADA,” Draco said, scanning his timetable. “That’s not too bad. What do you have when I have Arithmancy?” he asked Sarah.

“Ancient Studies,” she replied. She snagged Blaise’s and checked to see they were still in the same class. “I’m not looking forward to double Defense with Umbitch,” she frowned.

“Neither,” agreed Draco, sighing slightly. “We better go or we’ll be late for Charms.”

Sarah groaned and allowed herself to be dragged to class.

***

Potions class turned out to be a nightmare. After Snape had given them a lecture about O.W.L.s, he had set them to work on the Draught of Peace, a finicky potion that took a lot of concentration to complete. Snape had intervened before Draco or Sarah could set up their cauldrons near Harry and moved them to the front of the class.

He stalked around the class, turning his nose up at the potions, only offering a small nod when he saw Draco’s and Sarah’s. The worst of it occurred when they had ten minutes left of the lesson.

“Potter, what is this supposed to be?”

Draco groaned quietly beside her as they turned to see Snape glaring down at Harry and his potion, which was issuing large amounts of dark grey steam instead of the silver vapour it should have been emitting.

“The Draught of Peace,” said Harry tensely.

“Tell me, Potter,” said Snape softly, “can you read?”

Vincent Crabbe laughed.

“Yes, I can,” said Harry. Sarah noticed that his fingers clenched tightly around his wand.

“Read the third line of the instructions for me, Potter.”

Harry squinted toward the blackboard at the front of the class. In his defence, it was extremely difficult to see the cursive writing through the multicoloured steam filling the classroom.

“’Add powdered moonstone, stir three times counterclockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes, then add two drops of syrup of hellebore.”

Sarah’s heart sunk as Harry’s face paled as he read the last section of the instructions.

“Did you do everything on the third line, Potter?” said Snape.

“No,” said Harry very quietly.

“I beg your pardon?”

“No,” said Harry, more loudly. “I forgot the hellebore…”

“I know you did, Potter, which means that his mess is utterly worthless. _Evanesco_.”

Sarah winced as the contents of Harry’s potion vanished.

“Those of you who _have_ managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name, and bring it up to my desk for marking,” said Snape. “Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, to be handed in on Thursday.”

Sarah filled up her flagon and placed it carefully on Snape’s desk before hurrying back to clean up her station. Draco looked behind him sharply as the bell rang and Harry rushed out of the classroom, his face set harshly.

“Go,” Sarah urged. “I’ll clean this up.”

Draco didn’t hesitate to hurry after his boyfriend, Snape’s eyes trailing him disapprovingly. The black eyes suddenly shot to Sarah, who pursed her lips and held eye contact for a moment before turning back to cleaning up the last of their workplaces.

When Sarah joined the others in the Great Hall for lunch, she saw Draco sitting close to Harry, whispering quietly.

“That was really unfair,” said Hermione consolingly, sitting down next to Harry and helping herself to shepherd’s pie. “Your potion wasn’t nearly as bad as Goyle’s, when he put it in his flagon the whole thing shattered and set his robes on fire.”

“Yeah, well,” said Harry, glowering at his plate, “since when has Snape ever been fair to me.”

“I did think he might be a bit better this year,” said Hermione in a disappointed voice. “I mean…you know…” She looked carefully around. “…Now he’s in the Order and everything.”

“Poisonous toadstools don’t change their spots,” said Ron sagely. “Anyway, I’ve always thought Dumbledore was cracked trusting Snape, where’s the evidence he ever really stopped working for You-Know-Who?”

“I think Dumbledore’s probably got plenty of evidence, even if he doesn’t share it with you, Ron,” snapped Ron.

“Oh, shut up, the pair of you,” said Harry heavily, as Ron opened his mouth to argue back. Hermione and Ron both froze, looking angry and offended. Sarah and Draco glanced at each other in shock. “Can’t you give it a rest?” Harry continued. “You’re always having a go at each other, it’s driving me mad.” And abandoning his shepherd’s pie, he swung his schoolbag over his shoulder and left.

Draco stood up. “I’ll go talk to him.”

“I’ll follow in a minute,” Sarah said, frowning at the other two. Draco nodded and left. “What did we miss?” she asked Ron and Hermione.

“Nothing!” Ron said angrily. “I don’t know what his problem is.”

“Ronald! Don’t be rude,” Hermione snapped. Sarah was starting to see what Harry meant. Hermione turned to Sarah. “I guess Ron and I did argue earlier today as well after History of Magic. And after how Snape treated him, he probably isn’t feeling the best.”

Sarah nodded. “Maybe try to cut back on the arguments for a while, okay?” she suggested. “Or, if you really have to, do it somewhere where Harry doesn’t get dragged into it.”

She nodded once more at them and picked up her own bag and left, pausing only to run a hand through Fred’s hair as she passed him.

Sarah knew that Harry had Divination next and had probably gone in that direction. Thankfully, she was correct. She found Draco and Harry sitting on a large window ledge silently, the dark-haired boy leaning against Draco’s chest as they looked out across the grounds.

“Hey, guys,” Sarah said quietly as she approached.

Draco smiled tightly at her.

“How are you feeling, Harry?” Sarah asked, reaching out to place a gentle hand on Harry’s shoulder.

He turned to her with a sigh. “I’m sorry I snapped at lunch, they’re just been driving me spare all day.”

“You don’t have to apologise, Harry,” Sarah assured. “I know how much they fight. I must get annoying.”

Harry nodded. “It also doesn’t help that Seamus and a few others don’t believe me about Voldemort being back,” he muttered. “I was just telling Draco.”

“Apparently, Seamus was being a dick last night,” Draco said. He began to brush a hand through Harry’s thick curls and the other boy relaxed slightly. “He and his mother think Harry’s lying.”

Sarah frowned. If she kept doing that she was going to get premature wrinkles.

“Don’t let them get to you, Harry,” she said. “The people important to you know the truth. That’s what matters.”

“It’s just hard,” Harry muttered. “And I’ve just been feeling angry all the time. It suddenly rears up inside me and then disappears.”

“It’s probably just your reaction to a lot of negative factors,” suggested Sarah.

Harry smiled slightly at her. “Is that your way of saying it’s my coping mechanism for last year?”

“Not necessarily,” Sarah said slowly. “I think that the lies being spread about you in the press and through people’s opinions would irritate anyone. You just feel it more intensely than others may.”

Harry snorted something. “That was a very diplomatic answer, Sarah.”

Sarah smiled brightly. “What can I say? I’m a Slytherin.”

Harry went silent and rested against Draco again.

Sarah hesitated for a moment before asking, “Is that the only thing bothering you right now?”

Harry sighed. “Why I think I can ever hide anything from you two is a mystery,” he said with a crooked grimace.

They waited until Harry continued, sitting up to look at them both in the eye. “I’ve been having weird dreams the last few weeks,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to mention them because I didn’t think they were important, but…They’re weird. I don’t really know how to describe them.”

Draco and Sarah looked contemplatively at each other. Dreams weren’t a problem if they were just regular ones. But Harry seemed to think they were normal.

“Do you think something’s causing the dreams?” Draco asked, frowning slightly. Great, both of them were going to get premature wrinkles.

Harry shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe. I just thought I should mention them.”

“Let us know if you have any more of them, okay?” Sarah said. “They might be nothing but then again…”

“When is it ever nothing with me?” Harry finished with a self-deprecating smile.

“Exactly,” Sarah agreed.

A bell rang somewhere in the castle, indicating the end of lunch.

“We better go,” Draco said regretfully. “We’ll see you in Defense.”

Harry accepted a kiss from Draco and a hug from Sarah and then they left.

“We need to keep an eye on him,” Draco said as they walked down the corridor in the opposite direction to Harry.

Sarah looked over her shoulder to see the other boy looking out across the grounds again and a shot of protectiveness speared through her chest.

“Yes, we do,” she said determinedly.

***

When the entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom later they found Professor Umbridge already seated at the teacher’s desk, wearing a fluffy pink cardigan and black velvet bow. The class was quiet as it entered the room: Professor Umbridge was, as yet, an unknown quantity and nobody knew yet how strict a disciplinarian she was likely to be. Harry was tense when Sarah took the seat next to him.

“Well, good afternoon!” Professor Umbridge said when finally the whole class had sat down.

A few people mumbled “Good afternoon,” in reply.

“Tut, tut,” said Professor Umbridge. “ _That_ won’t do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply ‘Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.’ One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!”

“Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,” they chanted back at her.

“There, now,” said Professor Umbridge sweetly. “That wasn’t too difficult was it? Wands away and quills out, please.”

Many of the class exchanged gloomy looks; the order “wands away” had never yet been followed by a lesson they had found interesting. Sarah fought a grimace as Professor Umbridge watched them put away their wands with a fake, sweet smile. Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, extracted her own wand, which was an unusually short one, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once:

Defense Against the Dark Arts  
A Return to Basic Principles

“Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn’t it?” stated Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped nearly in front of her. “The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L year.” She smiled sweetly at all of them. “You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centred, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please.”

She rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by:

Course aims:  
1\. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.  
2\. Learning to recognise situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.  
3\. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical value.

For a couple of minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment. When everyone had copied down the three course aims, she said, “Has everybody got a copy of _Defensive Magical Theory_ by Wilbert Slinkhard?”

There was a dull murmur of assent throughout the class.

“I think we’ll try that again,” said Professor Umbridge. “When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply, ‘Yes, Professor Umbridge,’ or ‘No, Professor Umbridge.’ So, has everyone got a copy of _Defensive Magical Theory_ by Wilbert Slinkhard?”

“Yes, Professor Umbridge,” rang throughout the room.

“Good,” said Professor Umbridge. “I should like you to turn to page five and read chapter one, ‘Basics for Beginners.’ There will be no need to talk.”

Sarah opened the book and read through the words she had already familiarised herself with during the summer. Once she had determined that yes, it was all about Defensive Theory and no, it did not contain a shred of interesting information, she closed her book and took the time to observe the rest of the class. Beside her, Harry was staring blankly at the same page, flicking it back and forth absentmindedly. Draco, on the other hand, was diligently taking notes; even if his expression made it look like he had eaten something very sour and unpleasant. Sarah looked toward the front of the class and blinked in surprise. Hermione had not even opened her copy of the book. She was staring fixedly at Professor Umbridge with her hand in the air.

Deciding that watching her was more interesting than re-reading the rubbish in the book, Sarah rested her chin on her hand and cocked her head slightly, casually waiting until the professor noticed the other girl. After a few minutes, she felt Harry stir beside her and noted that he was also watching Hermione now. It wasn’t long until more than half the class was staring at Hermione rather than at their books. Professor Umbridge seemed to decide that she could ignore the situation no longer.

“Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?” she asked Hermione, as though she had only just noticed her.

“Not about the chapter, no,” said Hermione.

“Well, we’re reading just now,” said Professor Umbridge, showing her small, pointed teeth. “If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class.”

“I’ve got a query about your course aims,” said Hermione.

Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows. _Ooh_ , Sarah thought, _This is going to be fun_.

“And your name is - ?”

“Hermione Granger,” said Hermione.

“Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully,” said Professor Umbridge in a voice of determined sweetness.”

“Well, I don’t,” said Hermione bluntly. “There’s nothing written up there about _using_ defensive spells.”

There was a short silence in which many members of the class turned their heads to frown at the three course aims still written on the blackboard.

“ _Using_ defensive spells?” Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh. “Why, I can’t imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to _use_ a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren’t expecting to be attacked during class?”

“We’re not going to use magic?” Ron ejaculated loudly.

“Students will raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr - ?”

“Weasley,” said Ron, thrusting his hand into the air.

Professor Umbridge, smiling still more widely, turned her back on him. Harry and Hermione immediately raised their hands too. Professor Umbridge’s pouchy eyes lingered on Harry for a moment before she addressed Hermione.

“Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?”

“Yes,” said Hermione. “Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?”

“Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?” asked Professor Umbridge in her falsely sweet voice.

“No, but – “

“Well then, I’m afraid you are not qualified to decide what the ‘whole point’ of any class is,” said Professor Umbridge. Sarah raised her hand. “Yes, Miss - ?”

“Deaumont,” said Sarah, fixing a fake smile on her face. “I believe you may have conducted business with my father before?”

Professor Umbridge’s eyes brightened. “Ah, yes, Antonius. He is a very accomplished wizard.”

“Indeed,” Sarah said dryly.

“What did you wish to ask, Miss Deaumont?”

“I was just wondering whether we would be looking at Mr Slinkhard’s second edition of this series?” Sarah asked evenly.

Professor Umbridge’s eye twitched slightly.

“Second addition, Miss Deaumont?” she said. “I believe you are mistaken. Mr Slinkhard has written only one book on Defensive Magical Theory.”

“With all due respect,” Sarah said. “I think you’ll find that I’m not mistaken. Mr Slinkhard intended for this book to be a standalone to understand the theory behind defensive magic and use it to correctly implement the information and instructions in his second book.”

“Again, Miss Deaumont, you are mistaken,” said Professor Umbridge, her smile much more fixed now. “There is no other – “

“There is,” Sarah disagreed. “I have it with me if you’d like to examine it?” She reached into her bag and pulled out the second book. ‘ _Using Defensive Magic_ by Wilbert Slinkhard’, shined in bright letters on the front. “See, if you turn to the introduction, Mr Slinkhard explains that this book should be used alongside the Magical Theory one, as it provides the groundwork for the spells – “

“Miss Deaumont!” Professor Umbridge interrupted with a sharp smile. “Whilst I admire the research you have done into this topic, I’m afraid it was unnecessary. You see, the Ministry has approved certain texts and that is not one of them.”

“But – “

“Enough, Miss Deaumont,” said Professor Umbridge. “Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way – “

“What use is that?” said Harry loudly. “If we’re going to be attacked it won’t be in a – “

“ _Hand_ , Mr Potter!” sang Professor Umbridge.

Harry thrust his fist in the air. Professor Umbridge promptly turned away from him again, but now several other people had their hands up too.

“And your name is?” Professor Umbridge said to Dean.

“Dean Thomas.”

“Well, Mr Thomas?”

“Well, it’s like Harry said, isn’t it?” said Dean. “If we’re going to be attacked, it won’t be risk-free – “

“I repeat,” said Professor Umbridge, smiling in a very irritating fashion at Dean, “do you expect to be attacked during my classes?”

“Well…”

Professor Umbridge talked over him.

“I do not wish to criticise the way things have been run in this school,” she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth, “but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed – not to mention,” she gave a nasty little laugh, “extremely dangerous half-breeds.”

Sarah immediately straightened and sucked in a harsh breath.

“If you mean Professor Lupin,” she snarled, “he’s twice the person _you_ are!”

“ _Hand_ , Miss Deaumont!” Professor Umbridge snapped. “And if you speak out of term again it will be detention for you!” Sarah glowered at her and sat back in her seat. “As I was saying,” Professor Umbridge cleared her throat, “you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group, and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to Dark attacks every other day – “

“No we haven’t,” Hermione said, “we just – “

“ _Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!”_

Hermione put her hand up; Professor Umbridge turned away from her.

“It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them _on_ you – “

“Well, he turned out to be a maniac, didn’t he?” said Dean Thomas hotly. “Mind you, we still learned loads – “

” _Your hand is not up, Mr Thomas!”_ trilled Professor Umbridge. “Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about. Yes, Mr Malfoy?” she added, staring at Draco, whose hand had just shot up.

“Isn’t there a practical portion in our Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L? Aren’t we supposed to show that we can actually do the countercurses and things?”

“As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions,” said Professor Umbridge.

“Without ever practicing them before?” said Draco incredulously. “Are you telling us that the first time we’ll get to do the spells will be during our exam?”

“I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough – “

“And what good’s theory going to be in the real world?” said Harry loudly, his fist in the air again.

Professor Umbridge looked up.

“This is a school, Mr Potter, not the real world,” she said softly.

“So, we’re not supposed to be prepared for what’s waiting out there?” Sarah said.

“There is nothing waiting out there, Miss Deaumont.”

“Oh, yeah?” said Harry angrily.

“Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?” inquired Professor Umbridge in a horribly honeyed voice. Judging by the way Harry bristled, she had just walked right into trouble.

“Hmm, let’s think…” said Harry in a mock thoughtful voice, “maybe _Lord Voldemort_?”

Ron gasped; Draco groaned; Lavender Brown uttered a little scream; Neville slipped sideways off his stool. Professor Umbridge, however, did not flinch. She was staring at Harry with a grimly satisfied expression on her face.

“Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr Potter.”

The classroom was silent and still. Everyone was either staring at Umbridge or Harry.

“Now, let me make a few things quite plain.”

Professor Umbridge stood up and leaned toward them, her stubby-fingered hands splayed on her desk.

“You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead – “

“He wasn’t dead,” said Harry angrily, “but yeah, he’s returned!”

“Mr-Potter-you-have-already-lost-your-House-ten-points-do-not-make-matters-worse-for-yourself,” said Professor Umbridge in one breath without looking at Harry. “As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. _This is a lie_!”

“It is NOT a lie!” cried Sarah at the same time that Harry said, “I saw him, I fought him!”

“Detention, Mr Potter, Miss Deaumont!” said Professor Umbridge triumphantly. “Tomorrow evening. Five o’clock. My office. I repeat, _this is a lie_. The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, by all means come and see me outside class hours. And now, you will kindly continue your reading. Page five, ‘Basics for Beginners.’”

Professor Umbridge sat down behind her desk again. Harry, however, stood up.

“So according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?” Harry said, his voice shaking.

There was a collective intake of breath from the class, for none of them, except Draco, Ron, Hermione and Sarah had heard Harry talk about what had happened that night. They stared avidly from Harry to Professor Umbridge, who had raised her eyes and was staring at him without a trace of a fake smile on her face.

“Cedric Diggory’s death was a tragic accident,” she said coldly.

“How dare you?” hissed Sarah, standing up beside Harry. “It was murder!”

“Voldemort killed him,” Harry added. “And you know it.”

Professor Umbridge’s face was quite blank. For a moment, it looked like she was going to scream at them. Then she said, in her softest, most sweetly girlish voice, “Come here you two.”

Harry kicked his chair aside and strode around Draco and up to the teacher’s desk. Sarah followed at a more subdued pace, trying very hard to keep her hands from shaking in anger.

Professor Umbridge pulled a small roll of pink parchment out of her handbag, stretched it out on the desk, dipped her quill into a bottle of ink, and started scribbling, hunched over so that Sarah and Harry could not see what she was writing. Nobody spoke. After a minute or so she rolled up the parchment and tapped it with her wand; it sealed itself seamlessly so that they could not open it.

“Take this to Professor McGonagall, dears,” said Professor Umbridge, holding the not out to them. “I will also be talking to Professor Snape later this evening.”

Harry took it from her without a word and left the room. Sarah followed with a final glare in the professor’s direction. She made sure to slam the door loudly behind her. Sarah hurried to where Harry was walking very fast along the corridor, the note to McGonagall clutched tightly in his hand.

“Fucking bitch,” she muttered under her breath. Harry scoffed and lengthened his strides.

“Let’s get this over with,” he said. They reached Professor McGonagall’s office and Harry wrapped his knuckles hard against the wooden door.

The door flew open and Professor McGonagall startled at the sight of them.

“Why aren’t you in class?” she asked.

“We’ve been sent to see you,” said Harry stiffly.

“Sent? What do you mean, sent?”

He held out the note from Professor Umbridge. Professor McGonagall took it from him, frowning, slit it open with a tap of her wand, stretched it out, and began to read. Her eyes zoomed from side to side behind their square spectacles as she read what Umbridge had written, and with each line they became narrower.

“Come in here you two.”

They followed her inside her study. The door closed automatically behind them.

“Well?” said Professor McGonagall, rounding on them. “Is this true?”

“Is that true?” Harry said aggressively. “Professor,” he added in an attempt to sound more polite.

“Is it true you shouted at Professor Umbridge?”

“Yes,” said Sarah and Harry in unison.

“You called her a liar?”

“Yes.”

“You told her He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back?”

“Yes.”

Professor McGonagall sat down behind her desk, frowning at Sarah and Harry. Then she said, “Have a biscuit.”

“I’m sorry – what?” Sarah blurted.

“Have a biscuit,” she repeated impatiently, indicating a tartan tin of cookies lying on top of one of the piles of papers on her desk. “And sit down.”

Sarah and Harry sank into the chairs opposite her in confusion and belatedly reached for a biscuit.

Professor McGonagall set down Professor Umbridge’s note and looked very seriously at them.

“You need to be more careful.”

Sarah swallowed her mouthful of shortbread and stared at the professor. Her tone of voice was not at all what she was used to; it was not brisk, crisp and stern; it was low and anxious and somehow much more human than usual.

“Misbehaviour in Dolores Umbridge’s class could cost you must more than House points and detention.”

“What do you – ?”

“Potter, use your common sense,” snapped Professor McGonagall, with an abrupt return to her usual manner. “You know where she comes from, you must know to whom she is reporting.”

“Fudge already knows all of this, though,” Sarah said. “Harry and I repeating it to Umbridge is just bringing it to light in a way they can’t argue with lies in the _Prophet_.”

Professor McGonagall shook her head slightly.

“Think, Miss Deaumont,” she said sharply. “Getting on the wrong side of Dolores Umbridge will not only have negative consequences here but also outside Hogwarts. Think of what she could do to someone like Remus if she found out you were his goddaughter.” Professor McGonagall turned to Harry. “Or Arthur Weasley, who _you_ are close to. You must be smart when dealing with her.”

The bell rang for the end of the lesson. Overhead and all around came the elephantine sounds of hundreds of students on the move. Sarah suddenly felt quite ill.

“It says here she’s given you detention every evening this week, starting tomorrow,” Professor McGonagall said, looking down at Umbridge’s note again.

“Every evening this week!” Harry repeated, horrified. “But, Professor, couldn’t you - ?”

“No, I couldn’t,” said Professor McGonagall flatly.

“But – “

“She is your teacher and has every right to give you detention. You will go to her room at five o’clock tomorrow for the first one. Just remember: Tread carefully around Dolores Umbridge.”

“But we were telling the truth!” said Harry, outraged. “Voldemort’s back, you know he is, Professor Dumbledore knows he is – “

“For heaven’s sake, Potter!” said Professor McGonagall, straightening her glasses angrily (she had winced horribly when Harry had sued Voldemort’s name). “Do you really think this is about truth or lies? It’s about keeping your head down and your temper under control!”

She stood up, nostrils wide and mouth very thin, and they stood up too.

“Have another biscuit,” she said irritably, thrusting the tin at Harry.

“No, thanks,” said Harry coldly.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped.

They took one each.

“Thanks,” Sarah muttered.

“Didn’t you listen to Dolores Umbridge’s speech at the start-of-term feast?”

“Yeah,” said Harry while Sarah nodded along. “Yeah…she said…progress will be prohibited or…well, it meant that…that the Ministry of Magic is trying to interfere at Hogwarts.”

Sarah snorted slightly at his botched explanation. Professor McGonagall’s lips twitched slightly as she surveyed him, then sniffed, walked around her desk, and held the door open for them.

“Well, I’m glad you listen to Hermione Granger at any rate,” she said, pointing them out of her office.


	6. Chapter Six

Dinner in the Great Hall that night was not a pleasant experience. The news of Sarah and Harry’s shouting match with Umbridge seemed to have travelled exceptionally fast even by Hogwarts standards. Sarah heard whispers all around her as she sat eating between Blaise and Pansy. She could see Harry sandwiched between Ron and Hermione, stabbing aggressively at his dinner. Draco had gone over to check on him and left Sarah to the worried glances of her friends.

“A week of detentions isn’t so bad,” Theo offered weakly from across the table. “I mean, you didn’t lose any House points…”

“A week of detentions with that hag will be,” Sarah muttered bitterly. “I’ll be lucky not to stab a quill through her bulging eyes.”

Theo coughed into his fist and said, “Well, props for spirit, I guess.”

“You’ll be fine, Sarah,” trilled Pansy. She waved her fork around and narrowly avoided catching Sarah’s hair in it. “Just sit through what she makes you do and then done! Don’t worry about it anymore.”

“I just have to stay out of trouble,” sighed Sarah. “What if she tries doing something to Remus – “

She cut herself off and groaned, falling sideways to collapse against Blaise’s shoulder. He patted her gently on the head.

“There, there, darling,” he said in a world-weary tone. “I think the bigger problem is keeping Potter’s temper under control.”

Sarah looked up as he indicated toward the Gryffindor table, where Harry had begun to stab his food so viciously that Ron took his fork away from him.

“Oh, look, Draco’s coming back,” Millicent observed. “Any luck with your boy?” she asked him when he fell into a seat beside Theo.

“Afraid not,” he sighed. “And Angelina made it worse by coming up to him and shouting at him about missing Quidditch tryouts on Friday.”

Sarah winced. “He would not have liked that,” she muttered.

Draco looked at her with a stern expression.

“You shouldn’t have lost your temper in class,” he stated.

“I know,” she grumbled. “I just can’t believe the bitch had the _audacity_ to say that Cedric’s death was an accident.”

Draco sighed again. “I know,” he said softly. “But you need to be more careful.”

“I’ll try,” she promised.

“Heads up,” Pansy said suddenly, tilting her chin toward the teacher’s table. “He does _not_ look happy.”

Sarah groaned as Professor Snape strode toward her. He looked furious; his black eyes were flashing and his thin lips were curled into a deep scowl.

“Deaumont!” he snapped when he got within hearing range. “My office. _Now_.”

Sarah ignored her friend’s sympathetic looks and rose to her feet, dejectedly following her Head of House out of the Great Hall.

Snape didn’t say anything until she was seated in front of his neck in his office. He paced back and forth on the other side of the wooden desk, hands clenching and unclenching. Suddenly, he stopped.

“How could you be so _stupid_?” he hissed. Sarah blinked in shock. She hadn’t been expecting that. “Dolores Umbridge is not to be crossed,” he continued, anger rolling off him in waves. “Do you have any idea how _imbecilic_ it was to fight her, _in front of everyone_?”

“She’s a hag,” Sarah said calmly.

“Of course she is!” Snape exclaimed. “She’s a Ministry worker who’s in Fudge’s pocket. That does not mean you can go around shouting at her about the Dark Lord being back!”

“I just told the truth!” she snapped. “It was my fault she defiled Cedric’s memory.”

Snape took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm himself down.

“Do you know what it means that she’s here?” he asked in a much quieter voice.

“Yes,” Sarah said. “The Ministry wants to gain control over Hogwarts – if they can, the last thing threatening their idyllic picture of safety will be theirs to do as they wish.”

“Correct,” Snape agreed. “And do you understand why that poses certain threats to us all?”

“Of course,” Sarah snapped. “Believe it or not, Sev, I’m not an imbecile. I understand my actions earlier were stupid and emotion-driven – it won’t happen again.”

“No, it won’t,” he said quietly. “Sarah, you need to be careful.”

“Professor McGonagall already had the same speech with Harry and me, so spare me if you will,” Sarah muttered.

“Sarah, your father still has many ties within the Ministry,” Snape cautioned. “He will not hesitate to use them if necessary.”

“And you think Umbridge is in his pocket as well?” she asked.

“Most likely,” he remarked. “It would make sense for Antonius to take advantage of her position to update him on your loyalties. He already knows you will side with Potter. But what he doesn’t know is your schedule, your friends outside Draco and the Gryffindor idiots, your plans for after school.”

“You mean he could spy on me?” Sarah breathed.

“Yes,” Snape confirmed. He face was very grave. “Your father may find certain information quite useful, especially regarding Fred Weasley.”

Sarah’s heart clenched suddenly in fear.

“You’re telling that if I keep standing up to Umbridge, the ones I care about may be in danger from my father?” she choked out.

Snape nodded solemnly. “They may be regardless,” he said. “But do not make it worse by actively opposing her.”

Sarah was silent for a long moment as her thoughts whirled around in her head. Snape said nothing, just merely observed her silently from behind his desk.

“May I go, sir?” she whispered.

Snape nodded and Sarah stood up, glad that her legs didn’t wobble. Before she left, Snape rested a hand on her shoulder.

“Remember,” he said quietly, “I will always look out for you and Draco.”

She stiffened slightly. “Why don’t you try that with some of your other students as well, _Professor_?” she said.

Snape’s eyes flickered but she didn’t care. She pulled herself away and hurried out of the room.

She didn’t feel like going back to the common room just yet and decided to go to an alcove she had found early last year. It was in a secluded corridor and had a deep window ledge that she could comfortably sit on and look out toward to lake. A Privacy Charm and a Cushioning Charm made the little area a nice place to sit and think for a while without any interruptions.

Sarah rested her head against the wall and stared out toward the slowly rippling water, a thousand thoughts flitting through her head. She couldn’t wait to see what her Animagus form was; maybe then she would be able to fly somewhere far away or run where there were no problems to batter her down. She closed her eyes and hoped for some silence to the storm within her mind.

***

Harry opened the small notebook Draco had made him a few Christmas’ ago and saw a new message written there:

_Sarah never came back to the common room after her meeting with Snape. Is she with you or Fred?_

Knowing that Fred and George were downstairs testing their new products on first years while Hermione glowered at them in disapproval, Harry frowned. He sent a message back to Draco.

**_No. I’ll check the Map._ **

A quick scan later found Sarah’s dot in a sixth-floor corridor. He wiped the Marauder’s Map clean and sent through another message to Draco, who quickly replied.

**_Found her. I’ll go check on her._ **

_Okay, let me know if you need me._

Harry quickly grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and tucked the Map into his pocket. He hurried through the common room and nodded at Ron, who was still working on his Potions essay at Hermione’s insistence.

A few minutes later, he walked down the corridor Sarah’s dot was in and looked around until he saw the tell-tale shimmer of a Privacy Charm further down the wall. When he was level with it, he could see Sarah through it, sitting on a deep window sill and staring out the window. Tears glistened on her face.

Harry disabled the Privacy Charm and walked into the alcove. Sarah didn’t look his way as he replaced the Charm and joined her on the ledge.

“What are you thinking?” Harry asked her quietly.

“That seems to be becoming a habit of ours,” she remarked mildly, still looking out the window.

“What do you mean?”

“We never ask if someone is okay,” she elaborated. “You, me and Draco always ask what we’re thinking.”

“You can be not okay without understanding why,” Harry said softly. “It’s important to know the reasons behind the feelings.”

Sarah was silent for a moment and then she whispered, “Do you ever think of flying away? Just – escaping…”

Harry pondered the idea for a moment. “Yes,” he said truthfully. “I feel like my life would have been a lot easier if I had run away when my name came out of that Goblet.”

Sarah nodded.

“Snape thinks my father can use Umbridge to find out who matters the most to me,” Sarah revealed suddenly.

Harry blinked in surprise and didn’t say anything for a few seconds.

“Snape said that?” he confirmed.

Finally, Sarah turned to look at him, a hint of incredulity in her eyes.

“ _Yes_ ,” she said dryly. “He may be a right bastard but somewhere deep down in that thing he calls a soul he actually cares about what happens to Draco and me.”

Harry smiled and shook his head slightly in apology.

“So, what does he want you to do?” he asked gently.

Sarah sighed. “Not actively oppose Umbridge,” she replied.

“Easier said than done,” Harry muttered bitterly. He never thought he could hate someone more than Snape but Umbridge sure was testing it.

Sarah smirked. “Indeed,” she agreed quietly.

They continued in that way for a while; Sarah watching the lake and Harry watching Sarah.

“I’m not worried about my father,” Sarah whispered. “Not really. I think it’s just the possibility that unnerves me.”

She leant her head against the wall and continued to gaze out the window. Harry waited until she decided to speak again.

“Shame that we didn’t get the happy lives we deserve,” she said.

“I think the fact we didn’t just helped make us the people we are today,” Harry replied, feeling wiser than he thought he was.

Sarah obviously thought so too. “When did you suddenly get so philosophical?” she smirked.

“About the time I got a boyfriend who reads mind-numbing literature for fun,” Harry grinned.

He felt like he had accomplished something important when Sarah laughed. She turned so that her legs rested alongside Harry’s. She held out a hand. Harry smiled as he took it and rested it on their knees.

“Was Draco worrying about me?” she asked.

“He might have mentioned you didn’t go back to your common room,” Harry conceded.

Sarah rolled her eyes. “That boy worries too much.”

“And yet we love him anyway for it,” Harry said.

Sarah’s eyes twinkled when she looked at him. They were pale green today, so pale they could almost be mistaken for silver.

“Indeed we do,” she smiled.

They sat there until the sun had fully set behind the mountains framing the lake, throwing the grounds into thick shadow.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?” Harry offered.

Sarah nodded.

“A change of scene might be beneficial, I think,” she said, sliding off the ledge and pulling Harry with her. “Can I use your book to let Draco know? Mine’s in my trunk.”

“Of course,” Harry replied. He held the Invisibility Cloak ready if they needed it but they met no one on the trip back to Gryffindor Tower.

“ _Mimbulus mimbletonia,_ ” Harry muttered to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

Sarah snorted quietly as the portrait swung open.

“Neville must be thrilled,” she commented as they climbed inside.

“He is,” Harry agrees. “Whenever we’re in a group he always insists on saying the password. It’ll be a shame when it changes.”

Sarah smirked and shook her head slightly.

Hermione and Ron were still sitting by the fire; Ron working on his essay and Hermione knitting hats for the house-elves. Sarah frowned at the lumps of wool but didn’t comment. Harry didn’t stop to chat, he just waved at the other two and continued to lead Sarah to his dorm. She stopped to whisper a few words to Fred when the other boy approached with worry in his eyes. Harry waited patiently as Sarah smiled, kissed Fred quickly and then waved goodnight.

“I hope your bed is still as comfortable as I remember it to be,” she said as they pushed through the door to the dorm.

Neville and Dean greeted them while Seamus just stared in stony silence.

“Why is she here?” he asked harshly. “This is the boy’s dorm. Birds aren’t meant to be in here.”

“You never had a problem with it before,” Sarah countered, crossing her arms across her chest.

Neville leant against his bedpost and watched the two of them avidly. Harry decided it was better to sit this one out and join him.

“That was before you went around spouting nonsense,” Seamus said.

“Seamus…” Dean said warningly.

“What?” Seamus snapped. “I’m just telling the truth.”

“No, you’re sprouting the lies you let yourself be fed,” Sarah growled. “Can you think for yourself or do you need the _Prophet_ to put opinions in your head for you?”

Seamus stiffened. “You don’t know anything,” he said. “Me mam and I know you’re lying about Who-Know-Who. There’s no proof – “

“No proof?” hissed Sarah. She took a step forward and Seamus took one back, his eyes darting to where his wand was lying on his bed. “Would you like to see the memories of that night? Or better yet, the scars that are still present?”

Seamus shook his head and took another step back. But Sarah continued speaking.

“Because, I can do that for you, if you need _proof_ ,” she practically snarled.

“Sarah…” Neville said haltingly. “Go easy.”

Seamus used Sarah’s distraction to his advantage and scooped up his wand, fleeing the room and slamming the door behind him.

“Coward,” Sarah muttered.

“I’m sorry about him,” Dean said. “For the record, I don’t think you’re lying.”

“Thanks Dean,” Harry said.

“Get your boyfriend under control before he does something stupid,” Sarah said to the tall boy.

Dean blushed but it wasn’t that noticeable on his dark skin. “He’s not my boyfriend…” he muttered.

“Isn’t he?” Sarah said challengingly. She didn’t wait for a response and instead turned to Harry.

He held out his arms and wrapped her in a hug as Dean hurried from the room. Harry turned to Neville, who looked uncomfortable and slightly embarrassed.

“I’ll – er – warn Ron,” he mumbled before leaving as well.

Harry smiled down at Sarah. “Five minutes in here and you manage to scare all my dormmates away,” he teased.

“Let me know next time you want some alone time with Draco,” she replied.

Harry blushed but didn’t reply. He pulled Sarah onto his bed and closed the curtains behind them.

“Can you do a Silencing Charm?” Sarah whispered quietly as she wrapped herself around his side.

Harry nodded and cast the familiar charm. He began to slowly stroke Sarah’s hair until her breathing evened out. It was a long while until he drifted off to sleep.

***

Sarah woke up screaming.

Harry immediately lit his wand to light up the small area as Sarah gasped for breath beside him.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Harry said quietly, rubbing his free hand up and down her back. “You’re okay, Sarah.”

She was curled up with her knees to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them.

Harry knew that distracting her was the best way to help bring her out of the nightmare so he began to prattle nonsensically about the most recent Quidditch match between the Chudley Cannons and Puddlemere United.

“ – And Stevens didn’t even see the Snitch even though it nearly flew up his nose. It wasn’t a surprise that Rogers caught it before him. Honestly, it was so bad that even Ron couldn’t put a positive spin on it. They lost by nearly six hundred points; apparently it’s a new record…”

Sarah’s breathing calmed down until only the occasionally sob broke out. Harry braced himself as she suddenly sagged against him.

“Sorry for waking you up,” she said in a nasal tone. She wiped her face with her borrowed shirt and burrowed deeper against Harry’s chest.

“Don’t worry about it,” he assured. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Sarah shook her head.

“That’s okay,” he said. “I can keep going on about the Cannons’ worst defeat yet?”

Sarah coughed out a laugh.

“I appreciate the thought but no thanks,” she said thickly. “If I have to listen to one more word about the Cannons I may just go and sue them until they can never play another match again.”

Harry gasped in mock horror. “You would never!” he exclaimed. “You’d break Ron’s heart.”

“But I’d help make his expectations more realistic,” countered Sarah. “Honestly, I admire his loyalty but _the Cannons_? Ridiculous.”

“I know you and Draco support the Falcons but the Cannons aren’t _that_ bad…” Harry said. Even he didn’t believe his words. “Okay, yeah they are.”

Sarah huffed a laughed and pulled them so that they were relaxed against the pillows again.

“Good to know your Silencing Charms work,” she muttered.

Harry smirked broadly. “Well, I hope so, or else my mates have been getting earfuls every time Draco and I - “

“I really don’t need you to finish that sentence.”

Harry laughed and held Sarah tighter.

They fell asleep much easier this time.

***

“You’re using first years as test subjects?” Sarah repeated, an eyebrow raised at Fred.

“We’re paying them!” he exclaimed indignantly. “And it’s not like we’re forcing them. The little snots volunteered.”

Sarah had chosen to have breakfast with Fred this morning. She and Harry had slept without disruption until Ron woke them up. Sarah felt lighter today than she had for a while.

Now, however, she was listening to her boyfriend’s business plans with increasing disbelief.

“Uh huh,” she said, not looking away from Fred as she took a sip of tea. “And you’re testing the products on yourself first, right?”

“Of course!” crowed George from across the table. “Honestly, Sarah, with that tone you’d think we were monsters.”

Sarah wisely chose to ignore that topic.

“And what did Hermione say about this?” she asked with a pointed glance to where Hermione was shooting angry glances at the twins.

“She had a bit of a go at them last night,” Lee Jordan chimed in. “T’was quite amusing to see them cowed by the threat of their mother.”

“To be fair, Molly Weasley is a terrifying force to be reckoned with,” Sarah piped up. “Even those with an iron will cower before her.”

“You mean you’re terrified of her because you’re dating one of her sons and are friends with another,” Lee stated.

Sarah couldn’t argue with that.

“Are you getting profits?” she said, changing the subject.

Lee smirked at her and she rolled her eyes at him as George answered, “Yeah, business is booming.”

“We even figured out how to stop puking long enough to swallow the other side of the Pastille,” Fred said proudly.

“Brilliant…” Sarah slowly.

“Less judging more exaltation,” Fred sang.

Sarah smirked at him.

“I’m very proud,” she said. “Of you both,” she added when George made a whining sound across the table. “Merlin, anyone would think you’d die without constant affirmation.”

“You know us – “ Fred started.

“ – We need to feel important – “ George continued.

“ – Else our genius brains shrivel from sadness – “

“ – And our innovative inventions cease to exist – “

“ – A sadness felt by many – “

“ – In this slow-minded economy.”

The twins sat grinning at her once they had finished. Lee clapped with hands together and pretended to wipe a tear away.

“Spectacular performance, boys,” he cried, fanning his face. “I think you’ve left her speechless.”

“I’m merely trying to process what I just saw,” Sarah said.

Fred laughed and pulled her flush against his side, slinging an arm over her shoulder.

“You would be bored without us,” he announced. His hand played gently with one of her curls and she smiled to herself.

“Well, I suppose there’s only so much one can take of Blaise’s dramatics,” she said breezily. “I admit I find the variety invigorating.”

Fred and George spluttered in mock offence.

Hermione came to grab her at the end of the breakfast for their first class. The bushy-haired girl glared at Fred and George and tutted loudly when they waved at her in a shit-stirring way.

“They’re going to get in trouble if they keep doing what they’re doing,” Hermione sniffed as they left the Hall.

“Leave them be, Hermione,” Sarah said. “They’re planning for their future.”

“They’re testing products on first years!” said Hermione shrilly.

“Only after they’ve tested them on themselves and proven it to be safe,” Sarah explained. “They would never hurt anybody.”

Hermione looked sharply at her and raised an eyebrow.

“All right,” Sarah amended, “ _On purpose.”_

Hermione wasn’t convinced.

“If they keep this up, the teachers are going to find out,” she said in a stern tone of voice, “and then they’d be lucky if they weren’t expelled.”

Sarah sighed. “The more you try to stop them, the more creative they’ll become in hiding it from you,” she advised.

Hermione huffed a breath and frowned, but gave up on her argument.

“Come on,” she said eventually. “We’re going to be late for Transfiguration.”


	7. Chapter Seven

The day had become cool and breezy by the time they left the castle for Care of Magical Creatures that afternoon. Professor Grubbly-Plank stood waiting for the class some ten yards from Hagrid’s front door, a long trestle table in front of her laden with many twigs.

“Everyone here?” barked Professor Grubbly-Plank, once all the Slytherins and Gryffindors had arrived. “Let’s crack on then – who can tell me what these things are called?”

Draco and Hermione’s hands shot in the air. Behind Hermione’s back, Crabbe did a buck-toothed imitation of her jumping up and down in eagerness to answer a question. Davis gave a shriek of laughter that turned almost at once into a scream, as the twigs on the table leapt into the air and revealed themselves to be what looked like tiny pixieish creatures made of wood, each with knobbly brown arms and legs, two twiglike fingers at the end of each hand, and a funny, flat, barklike face in which a pair of beetle-brown eyes glittered.

“Oooooh!” said Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, thoroughly irritating Sarah.

“Kindly keep your voices down, girls!” said Professor Grubbly-Plank sharply, scattering a handful of what looked like brown rice among the stick-creatures, who immediately fell upon the food. “So – anyone know the names of these creatures? Mr Malfoy?”

“Bowtruckles,” said Draco. “They’re tree-guardians, usually live in wand-trees.”

“Five points to Slytherin,” said Professor Grubbly-Plank. “Yes, these are bowtruckles and, as Mr Malfoy rightly says, they generally live in trees whose wood is of wand quality. Anybody know what they eat?”

“Wood lice,” said Hermione promptly, which explained why what Sarah had taken for grains of brown rice were moving. “But fairy eggs if they can get them.”

“Good girl, take five points for Gryffindor. So whenever you need leaves or wood from a tree in which a bowtruckle lodges, it is wise to have a gift of wood lice ready to distract or placate it. They may not look dangerous, but if angered they will gouge out human eyes with their fingers, which, as you can seem are very sharp and not at all desirable near the eyeballs. So if you’d like to gather closer, take a few wood lice and a bowtruckle – I have enough here for one between three – you can study them more closely. I want a sketch from each of you with all body parts labelled by the end of the lesson.”

Harry went to grab a bowtruckle while Draco got a handful of wood lice. Sarah sat down on a soft patch of grass and got out some parchment and quills. Harry sat down beside her and said, “I wonder where Hagrid is?”

“I have as much of an idea as you do, Harry,” she said dryly.

Crabbe leaned over from where he was sitting nearby and said in an undertone, “Maybe the stupid oaf’s got himself badly injured.”

“Maybe you will if you don’t shut up,” said Sarah out of the side of her mouth.

“Maybe he’s been messing with stuff that’s too _big_ for him, if you get my drift.”

Crabbe leaned away, smirking over his shoulder at them.

“Dumbledore would have let someone know if Hagrid was in any trouble,” Draco said, scowling in Crabbe’s direction. “It’s just playing into Crabbe’s hands to look worried. Hold the bowtruckle up slightly, would you, Harry?”

Sarah drew a rough sketch of her bowtruckle, decided that it was quite horrible and vowed to get Draco to redraw it for her.

“Yes,” came Crabbe’s clear drawl, “Father said that the Ministry’s really determined to crack down on substandard teaching in this place. So even if that overgrown moron _does_ show up again, he’ll probably be sent packing straight away.”

“OUCH!”

Harry had gripped the bowtruckle so hard that it had almost snapped; it had just taken a great retaliatory swipe at his hand with its sharp fingers, leaving two deep cuts there. Harry dropped it; Crabbe and Goyle, who had already been guffawing at the idea of Hagrid being sacked, laughed harder as the bowtruckle set off at full tilt toward the forest, a little, moving stickman soon swallowed up by the tree roots. Sarah grabbed Harry’s hand and wrapped it quickly in a conjured cloth.

“I’ll look at that up at the castle,” she said as the bell echoed distantly over the grounds for the end of class.

“If he calls Hagrid a moron one more time…” snarled Harry.

“Harry, don’t go picking a row with Crabbe, don’t forget, he could make your life difficult for you…” Hermione warned.

“Wow, I wonder what it’d be like to have a difficult life?” said Harry sarcastically. Sarah snorted but Draco frowned slightly.

Before they separated – the Gryffindors to Herbology and the Slytherins to History of Magic – Sarah healed and cleaned Harry’s cut.

“I’m checking that at dinner,” she warned him. “If you get _any_ dirt in that I will _eviscerate_ you.”

“Love you too,” he called over his shoulder.

At five o’clock, Sarah bid goodbye to Draco, Blaise and Theo and mournfully left the Slytherin table for her detention with Umbitch.

“Try to reign in those stabbing urges!” Blaise called.

Sarah ignored him and met with Harry at the doors; he looked just as grumpy as she felt.

“Let’s get this over with,” he muttered and they set off for Umbridge’s office on the third floor.

When they knocked on the door she said, “Come in,” in a sugary voice. They entered cautiously, looking around. Sarah remembered the office from when Remus occupied it, it was usually full of interesting creatures in cages and piles of essays.

Now, however, it was totally unrecognisable. The surfaces had all be draped in lacy covers and cloths. There were several vases full of dried flowers, each residing on its own doily, and on one of the walls was a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large technicolour kitten wearing a different bow around its neck. These were so foul that Sarah and Harry stared at then, transfixed, until Professor Umbridge spoke again.

“Good evening, Mr Potter, Miss Deaumont.”

Sarah blinked and looked around. She had not noticed the professor at first because she was wearing a luridly flowered set of robes that blended only too well with the tablecloth on the desk behind her. Sarah was speechless with horror.

“Evening,” Harry said stiffly, recovering first.

“Well, sit down,” Umbridge said, pointing toward a pair of small tables draped in lace. A piece of blank parchment lay on the table, apparently waiting for them.

Sarah sat down as Harry stuttered out a request to allow Umbridge to let him go to Keeper tryouts on Friday instead of doing his detention. She already knew it was pointless even before Umbridge smiled widely and said, “Oh no, no, no. This is your punishment for spreading evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories, Mr Potter, and punishments certainly cannot be adjusted to suit the guilty one’s convenience. I think it rather a good thing that you are missing something you really want to do. It ought to reinforce the lesson I am trying to teach you.”

Sarah contained the scowl that threatened to break out across her face. How someone could be as horrid as Umbridge was a mystery. Harry dropped his schoolbag next to the chair beside Sarah and sat down, his face admirably even.

“There,” said Umbridge sweetly, “we’re getting better at controlling our temper already, aren’t we? Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me tonight. No, not with your quill,” she added, as Sarah and Harry bent down to grab their quills. “You’re going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are.”

She handed them each a long, thin black quill with an unusually sharp point.

“I want you to write ‘ _I must not tell lies’_ ,” she told them softly.

“How many times?” Sarah asked politely. Only years of pureblood upbringing kept her tongue from lashing out at Umbridge.

“Oh, as long as it takes for the message to _sink in_ ,” said Umbridge sweetly. “Off you go.”

She moved over to her desk, sat down, and bent over a stack of parchment that looked like essays for marking. Sarah gripped the black quill, feeling slightly uneasy for some reason.

Harry suddenly spoke.

“You haven’t given us any ink,” he said to Umbridge.

“Oh, you won’t need ink,” said Professor Umbridge with the merest suggestion of a laugh in her voice.

Sarah swallowed dryly and placed the tip of the quill on the paper and wrote: _I must not tell lies_.

As she had suspected, a shot of pain went through her hand and she stifled a gasp. The words had appeared on the parchment in shining red letters. At the same time, the words had appeared on the back of Sarah’s right hand, cut into her skin as though traced by a scalpel – yet even as she stared at the shining cut, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before but quite smooth. She turned to Harry, who was looking at her in horror, his own hand red.

Umbridge was watching them, her wide, toadlike mouth stretched in a smile.

“Yes?”

“Nothing,” said Sarah.

She swallowed the nausea rising in her throat and began writing again. On it went. Again and again, Sarah and Harry wrote the words on the parchment in their own blood. And again and again the words were cut into the back of their hands, healed, and then reappeared after the next line.

Darkness fell outside Umbridge’s window. Neither of them asked when they would be allowed to stop. They knew Umbridge was watching them for signs of weakness and Sarah refused to show any, not even if that meant she had to sit here all night, cutting open her own hand with this quill…

“Come here,” Umbridge said after what seemed hours.

They stood up. Sarah’s hand was stinging painfully. The cut had healed but the skin was red raw.

“Hands,” Umbridge said.

They each extended their right hands. Umbridge took them in her own. Sarah repressed a shudder as she touched her with her thick, stubby fingers on which she wore a number of ugly old rings.

“Tut, tut, I don’t seem to have made much of an impression yet,” she said, smiling. “Well, we’ll just have to try again tomorrow evening, won’t we? You may go.”

They left her office without a word. The school was quite deserted; it was surely past midnight. They walked slowly up the corridor then, when they were sure she would not hear them, broke into a run.

“Torture, it’s plain and simple _torture_ ,” Sarah gasped as they halted in an alcove far away from Umbridge’s office.

“What can we do?” Harry said irritably. “No one will listen and we still have four nights of this.”

Sarah sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

“We deal with it,” she said glumly. “We don’t let her get to us. If we do, she wins.”

Harry nodded but frowned. “It’ll leave a mark by the end of the week. Someone’s going to notice.”

“I know,” Sarah replied. “But we’ll deal with that when we get there. I’m going to bed. Goodnight, Harry.”

He bid her goodnight, kissed her on the cheek, and then left in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. Sarah didn’t stop to talk to anyone still awake in the common room and instead rushed to bed, hiding herself beneath the warm covers.

***

The second detention was just as bad as the previous one. The skin on the back of their hands irritated more quickly now, red and inflamed; Sarah thought it unlikely to keep healing as effectively for long. The cuts would soon remain etched in their hands. Sarah had already stolen some paste from the hospital wing during one of her lunchtime shifts and ingredients from the Potions’ storeroom to make a soothing solution to help the cuts. Neither Sarah nor Harry let any noises of pain escape them, and from the moment of entering the room to the moment of their dismissal, again past midnight, they said nothing but “Good evening” and “Good night.”

Sarah was beginning to fall behind on her homework. She now began to follow Harry up to the Gryffindor common room to complete her homework alongside him, as he as drastically behind as well. She helped him with his Potions essay while he redrew her bowtruckle diagram, being surprisingly proficient at sketching. When they finished, they staggered up to Harry’s room, where they fell fully clothed on top of the bed covers and fell asleep immediately.

Thursday passed in a haze of tiredness. Blaise and Draco were constantly helping her not veer into things as they walked between classes and prodding her awake whenever she dozed off. Draco, bless his heart, wrote detailed notes and bullied Pansy into taking notes in Runes for her. He insisted that Sarah sleep through lunch and smuggled her food in Charms. That night, during detention, the scratched lines “ _I must not tell lies_ ” did not fade from the back of her hand, but remained there, oozing droplets of blood. She paused and Professor Umbridge looked up.

“Ah,” she said softly, moving around her desk to examine her hand and then Harry’s, whose was in a similar state. “Good. That ought to serve as a remainder to you, oughtn’t it? You may leave for tonight.”

“Do we still have to come back tomorrow?” said Harry, picking up his schoolbag with his left hand.

“Oh yes,” said Professor Umbridge, smiling widely as before. “Yes, I think we can etch the message a little deeper with another evening’s work.”

“Follow me,” Sarah said after they had left the office. “I have something that will help with the pain.”

They were walking up to an empty room on the fifth floor when Harry suddenly said, “Ron?”

They had reached the top of the stairs and turned, almost walking into Ron, who was lurking behind a statue of Lachlan the Lanky, clutching his broomstick. He gave a great leap of surprise when he saw Sarah and Harry and attempted to hide his new Cleansweep Eleven behind his back.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked him.

“Er – nothing. What are _you_ doing?”

Harry frowned at him.

“Come on, you can tell me! What are you hiding here for?”

“I’m – I’m hiding from Fred and George, if you must know,” said Ron. “They just went past with a bunch of first years, I bet they’re testing stuff on them again, I mean, they can’t do it in the common room now, can they, not with Hermione there.”

He was talking in a very fast, feverish way. Sarah cocked her head and examined him closer.

“You’ve been practicing for tryouts, haven’t you?” she said, grinning at the redhead.

Ron went several shades brighter as he flushed.

“I – I – well, okay, _yes_ , I have. Don’t laugh, all right?” Ron said defensively, turning redder with every second. “I-I thought I’d try out for Gryffindor Keeper now I’ve got a decent broom. There. Go on. Laugh.”

“We’re not laughing,” said Harry. Ron blinked. “It’s a brilliant idea! It’d be really cool if you got on the team! I’ve never seen you play Keeper, are you good?”

“I’m not too bad,” said Ron, who looked immensely relieved at their reaction. “Charlie, Fred and George always made me Keep for them when they were training during the holidays.”

“I remember you mentioning it a few years ago,” Sarah said. “Harry’s right, it’s a brilliant idea. Just don’t expect Draco and me to go easy on you when we verse you.”

“I don’t even know if I’ll get on the team,” Ron said. He looked nervous and anxious. “Fred and George are going to laugh themselves stupid when I turn up for the tryouts. They haven’t stopped taking the mickey out of me since I got made a prefect.”

“I wish I was going to be there,” said Harry bitterly, as they set off together toward the common room.

“Yeah, so do – Harry, what’s that on the back of your hand?”

Harry, who had just scratched his nose with his free right hand, tried to hide it, but had as much success as Ron with his Cleansweep.

“It’s just a cut – it’s nothing – it’s – “

But Ron had grabbed Harry’s forearm and pulled the back of Harry’s hand up level with his eyes. There was a pause, during which he stared at the words carved into the skin, then he released Harry, looking sick.

“I thought you said she was giving you lines?”

Sarah hesitated and looked toward Harry. The other boy also looked uneasy but told Ron what had happened in their detentions. Ron looked more ill with every word and once Harry had finished, he grabbed Sarah’s hand and looked at the matching lines on her skin.

“That old hag!” Ron said in a revolted whisper as they came to a halt in front of the Fat Lady, who was dozing peacefully with her head against her frame. “She’s sick! Go to McGonagall, say something!”

“No,” Sarah and Harry said at once. Harry added, “We’re not giving her the satisfaction of knowing she’s gotten to us.”

“The bitch doesn’t deserve it,” Sarah hissed. “We can deal with this. Just don’t tell anyone.”

“You can’t let her get away with it!” Ron argued. “Tell Dumbledore!”

“No,” said Harry flatly.

“Why not?” Ron asked.

“He’s got enough on his mind,” said Harry. Sarah could tell he was lying but didn’t push the issue.

“Well, I reckon you should – “ Ron began, but he was interrupted by the Fat Lady, who had been watching them sleepily and now burst out, “Are you going to give me the password or will I have to stay awake all night waiting for you to finish your conversation?”

***

Friday dawned sullen and sodden as the rest of the week. Draco was watching Sarah carefully as she painfully wrote notes in her classes. So far, she had managed to hide the words on her skin but she knew it wouldn’t last. It was only due to the fact that Umbridge’s detentions had kept both her and Harry away from the Slytherin common room that Draco hadn’t noticed. During classes, they were both careful to sit so that he couldn’t see their hands and in Potions, Ron made Hermione pair with Draco while he worked with Harry. Sarah rushed off to work with Blaise, who wouldn’t ask questions even if he wondered why she used her left hand.

At five o’clock that night, Sarah and Harry knocked on Professor Umbridge’s door for what they hoped would be the last time. Knowing Harry’s luck, Sarah thought it was unlikely.

“You two know what to do,” said Umbridge, smiling sweetly over at them.

Sarah sat and noticed that Harry subtly shifted his chair close to the window to try to watch the Keeper tryouts. She internally rolled her eyes and steeled herself to start writing. The first cut always hurt the most as the healing scab sliced open and began to bleed afresh.

 _I must not tell lies_. The cut dug deeper, stinging and smarting.

 _I must not tell lies_. Blood trickled down her wrist.

She grimaced as the cuts stopped healing entirely, the skin around the words red and throbbing.

_I must not tell lies._

_I must not tell lies_.

The parchment was no shining with drops of blood from the back of her hand, which was searing with pain. When she looked up next, night had fallen; Harry’s hand was in a similar shape to hers.

“Let’s see if you’ve gotten the message yet, shall we?” said Umbridge’s soft voice half an hour later.

She moved toward Sarah, stretching out her short, be-ringed fingers for Sarah’s arm. Sarah couldn’t help the wince that cut through her as Umbridge pressed her thumb against the skin around the cuts. Umbridge smiled cruelly as she moved onto Harry, who suddenly wrenched his arm out of her grip and leapt to his feet, staring at her. Umbridge looked back at him, a smile stretching her wide, slack mouth.

“Yes, it hurts, doesn’t it?” she said softly.

Harry didn’t answer. He shot Sarah a worried look and she frowned at him, wondering what could have spooked him enough to leave a frightened look in his green eyes.

“Well, I think I’ve made my point, Mr Potter, Miss Deaumont. You may go.”

They caught up their schoolbags and left the room as quickly as they could.

“Harry, are you okay?” Sarah hissed as they hurried toward Gryffindor Tower.

Harry stopped suddenly and looked up and down the corridor. “My scar hurt when Umbridge gripped my hand,” he whispered frantically. Sarah blanched at his words. “And – and I felt the weirdest sensation. I don’t even know how to describe it.”

Sarah tugged on his arm to get him moving again, the sooner they were in his common room, the better.

“Do you think Umbridge could be working with Voldemort?” she asked quietly.

Harry ran his uninjured hand through his hair and shook his head. “I have no idea,” he said. “She’s evil enough but I don’t know if she could be a Death Eater…”

They said nothing else as they reached the portrait hole.

“ _Mimbulus mimbletonia_!” Sarah called at the Fat Lady, who swung forward at once.

A roar of sound greeted them. Ron came running toward them, beaming all over his face and slopping butterbeer down his front from the goblet he was clutching.

“Harry, Sarah, I did it! I’m in, I’m Keeper!”

“What? Oh – brilliant!” said Harry, trying to smile naturally.

“Have a butterbeer.” Ron pressed a bottle onto Harry. “I’ll go get you one, Sarah, hang on. I can’t believe it – where’s Hermione and Draco gone?”

“They’re over there,” said Fred, who was also swigging butterbeer, and pointed to the armchairs by the fire. Hermione was dozing in it, her drink tipping precariously in her hand while Draco frantically scribbled on a piece of parchment. Harry and Ron went over to them as Fred came to talk to Sarah.

“He was actually surprisingly good,” he admitted, nodding at his brother. “How was your detention?”

“Pretty shit but at least it’s over,” shrugged Sarah. “Why the party? I mean, I didn’t expect you guys to celebrate so much when someone – OUCH!”

Fred had grabbed her injured hand in his own without realising. Sarah pulled it back and cradled it to her chest as spikes of pain ran up and down her arms.

“Sarah, what’s wrong?” Fred asked worriedly, looking down at her hand. “What’s that?”

“Nothing!” she said quickly, looking around for an escape. But Fred grabbed her arm and peered at the skin on the back of her hand, which had begun to bleed again.

Sarah winced as Fred’s face went blank the longer he stared at the words carved into her skin.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he said in a deadly quiet voice.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” Sarah whispered. She tugged her hand free of his grip and held it close to her again, curling slightly inward.

Sarah’s shout had attracted Draco’s attention. The blond boy appeared beside Fred with a concerned expression on his face.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Fred kept staring at where Sarah’s hand was pressed against her robes.

“Look at her hand,” he said to Draco. “Look at it.”

Draco frowned and flicked his gaze down to the wounds that Sarah tried to cover. His face paled and he spun around suddenly.

“Harry James Potter, you get over here this instant!” he snapped. Harry blanched but shuffled over, his own hands stuffed in his pockets.

Draco frowned at him and held out his hand. “Hand,” he demanded to Harry. “Now.”

Harry looked at Sarah helplessly and she cringed. There was no way they were escaping this now.

Harry reluctantly placed his hand atop his boyfriend’s and Draco’s face slowly got redder and redder as he processed what had happened.

“What the _fuck_ is this?” he hissed. Sarah had never seen him so furious at either of them and had to admit that it was a terrifying sight. He had grown another few inches over the holidays meaning he towered over Sarah and Harry, who was still waiting for his own growth spurt. Draco’s silver eyes flashed like lightning and his jaw was locked.

“Erm…” Harry said eloquently.

“Umbridge’s detention,” Sarah said, straightening her spine and staring Draco down. “She made us write lines using blood quills.”

Draco and Fred paled even further at her words.

“WHAT?” they shouted in unison. Heads turned toward them as the jovial atmosphere stuttered slightly.

“Why don’t we take this somewhere more private?” suggested Sarah, gesturing to the boy’s stairs. “After me.”

She calmly walked through the crowd of students, who had thankfully turned back to their own conversations, and up the boy’s stairs into Harry’s room.

Harry followed sheepishly behind her, quickly joined by Draco and Fred, both of whom were fuming silently.

That didn’t last long.

“How could she do something so _horrid_!”

“That’s torture!”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Have you told McGonagall? Snape? Dumbledore?”

“I can’t _believe_ you would keep this a secret!”

Draco and Fred’s shouts overlapped as Sarah drew Harry to sit comfortably on his bed.

“Just let them lose steam,” she whispered to Harry, who smirked but quickly looked apologetic as Draco scowled at him again.

Eventually, the boys calmed down and opposite them on Ron’s bed.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Draco said quietly when silence fell.

Sarah smiled sadly at him. “Because we knew you would react like this and it wasn’t worth you worrying about us.”

“You had to deal with that every _night_ , Sarah,” Fred said, aghast.

“I’m aware of that,” she said. “And I took precautions after Monday night.”

She rummaged in her bag for the Murtlap Essence and healing paste.

“I’ve been carrying these around for days to help with the pain and possible infection,” she explained. “We wouldn’t just let her win.”

Draco sighed and put his head in his hands, his fingers tangling with the blond strands of his hair.

“It’s not that we didn’t tell you because we didn’t trust you,” Harry said softly. “We just knew you would care enough to get involved and we didn’t want that.”

Draco laughed harshly.

“I guess you’re right,” he admitted. “I do feel tempted to go down there and strangle that hag with my own two hands.”

Fred scowled darkly. “I’d be right alongside you, mate,” he said. “No one just gets to hurt my girlfriend and get away with it.”

Sarah felt a burst of warmth for her boyfriend and best friend.

“I’m not sorry we didn’t tell you,” she said, staring defiantly at the two boys. “It was the right decision to make. We’re just going to make sure we don’t get detention again.”

Harry scoffed. “Easier said than done.”

“You just have to control your temper, Harry,” Draco said.

“I know that,” Harry snapped, causing Draco to reel back slightly, a hurt expression on his face. Harry sagged slightly. “I’m sorry. I’m just tired and sore.”

Sarah looked down at her hand and groaned as she took in the blood staining her shirt sleeve and handkerchief.

“Right now, I just want to bandage this and get changed into something else,” she said. “Are you done shouting at us on our behalf?”

Fred shrugged and said, “Depends on if I have to defend you again later tonight.”

She rolled her eyes at him and stood.

“I’m going to see if I can borrow some of Hermione’s clothes,” she announced. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Fred followed her out of the room and the last thing she saw before the door swung shut behind her was Draco and Harry sitting on Harry’s bed, arms wrapped around each other.

Fred pulled her to a stop before the reached the common room.

“I’m sorry I shouted,” he apologised. His warm brown eyes were watching her intently. “I just hated the fact that she hurt you. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, though.”

Sarah wrapped her arms carefully around his neck and pulled him down for a slow kiss.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I accept your apology. I’m just lucky that you care.”

Fred smiled and kissed her again.

She found Hermione still dozing in front of the fireplace and gently shook her awake; the party was still in full swing.

“Can I borrow some clothes?” she asked the other girl.

Hermione blearily blinked up at her.

“Of course,” she said once she had registered Sarah’s words. “I’m going to head up to bed anyway I think.”

Fred said he’d wait down in the common room for Sarah, as the stairs to the girl’s dormitories turned into slides whenever a boy tried to walk up them.

When Sarah was just pulling on Hermione’s shirt, the girl in question suddenly spoke.

“We need to do something about Umbridge.”

Sarah turned to see Hermione staring out the window with her arms crossed and her thinking face on.

“What do you mean?” she asked, sitting on Hermione’s bed.

Hermione worried her lip. “I mean, we’re not learning anything in class. We’ll never pass our O.W.L.s at this rate. We need to teach ourselves another way.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Hermione, what are you planning?” she asked.

Hermione smiled slightly at her. “It’s ridiculous actually,” she said. “But I was thinking that we should start our own group to teach us Defense. We could learn everything that Umbridge refuses to teach us.”

“How would we do that?” Sarah said, not immediately disagreeing with the idea.

“I’m not sure,” Hermione admitted. “We would need to think through the finer details more. The thing is, though, I doubt Harry would be on board.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I think Harry should teach us,” Hermione confessed. Sarah blinked once. “It’s ridiculous, I know, but I think he’d be great at it. He’s got so much more experience than us – it would be really helpful.”

“I agree with you.”

Hermione stared at her in shock.

“R-Really?” she said, brown eyes wide. “You do?”

“Of course,” Sarah smiled. “It’s a good idea. We just have to be smart about how we ask Harry. And if we offer to support him instead of leaving him all alone to run it, then I don’t think we’ll have a problem.”

“Thank goodness,” Hermione said in relief. “I was afraid you’d disagree.”

Sarah shrugged. “We have to learn somehow,” she said. She smirked suddenly. “Besides, I sometimes have a problem following rules, especially if they’re stupid.”

Hermione grinned brightly.

“I’ll start writing up a plan,” she said. Then she yawned widely. “Tomorrow,” she added, rubbing her eyes. “After I get a decent night’s sleep.”

Sarah laughed and bid the girl goodnight as she went to rejoin the party. Hermione’s idea was interesting. It was only a matter of seeing if it was actually possible.


	8. Chapter Eight

“This is ridiculous,” Sarah said loudly, crossing her arms over her chest. When no one responded she cleared her throat and said even louder, “This is ridiculous!”

“Yes, Deaumont, we know you think this is ridiculous would you SHUT UP!” barked Cassius Warrington, the Slytherin sixth year who had taken over as Quidditch Captain after Marcus Flint had left.

Sarah smirked and reclined comfortably on her seat in the Quidditch stands.

“I just don’t see the point of sitting out here watching them practice,” she continued loudly, ignoring her teammates harsh glares. “I mean, the only thing we’re going to achieve is feeling completely hopeless for the upcoming game.”

“DEAUMONT SHUT THE FUCK UP!” shouted Warrington.

Draco snorted beside her as she blinked innocently at Warrington.

“I allowed to give my opinion, Warrington,” she said coolly. “Keep treating me like this and my Quaffles might start missing.”

“You do that and your off the team,” Warrington threatened.

“Good luck trying to find someone as talented as me,” she replied breezily.

Warrington scowled at her and turned back to sneering at the Gryffindor team who was currently using the pitch for practice.

“Nice form, Ron!” Sarah shouted as Ron hovered in front of the goalposts.

Ron blushed slightly and smiled when he caught the next Quaffle Alicia Spinnet sent his way.

“What’s that Weasley’s riding?” Crabbe called in his sneering drawl. “Why would anyone put a Flying Charm on a mouldy old log like that?”

Crabbe, Goyle and Warrington guffawed with laughter. Ron’s ears slowly began to turn red.

Sarah scowled and kicked the seat in front of her, causing the three of them to pitch forward.

“Whoops,” she said unapologetically.

“Okay everyone,” Angelina Johnson called. She had taken over as the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain since Oliver Wood had graduated two years ago. “We’re going to work on some passes just to warm up, the whole team please – “

“Hey, Johnson, what’s with that hairstyle anyway?” called Warrington loudly. “You’d be ten times more attractive if you didn’t have worms on your head – well, _maybe_ more attractive, you _are_ a Gryffindor after all.”

Sarah didn’t even try to hold back this time. She kicked Warrington so hard in the back that he fell down a few rows before crumbling in a groaning heap.

“Keep being a sexist bastard and a few bruises will be the least of your worries,” Sarah snarled.

Angelina shot her a quick smile, swept her long braided hair out of her face and said calmly, “Spread out, then, and let’s see what we can do…”

The team members drifted outwards until they formed a rough circle around the pitch. Angeline raised the Quaffle with one hand and threw it hard to Fred, who passed to George, who passed to Harry, who passed to Ron, who dropped it.

The Slytherin team, minus Sarah and Draco, roared and screamed with laughter. Ron, who had pelted toward the ground to catch the Quaffle before it landed, pulled out of the dive untidily, so that he slipped sideways on his broom, and returned to playing height, blushing. Sarah saw Fred and George exchange looks, but uncharacteristically neither of them said anything, for which she was grateful.

“Pass it on, Ron,” called Angelina, as though nothing had happened.

Ron threw the Quaffle to Alicia, who passed it back to Harry, who passed to George…

“Hey, Potter, how’s your scar feeling?” called Crabbe. “Sure you don’t need a lie-down? It must be, what, a whole week since you were in the hospital wing, that’s a record for you, isn’t it?”

Draco lunged forward to punch Crabbe but Sarah held him back by his robes.

“Not worth it,” she muttered.

“You literally just kicked Warrington down four rows!” Draco hissed.

“Yes,” Sarah whispered, “but you’re a Prefect – you can’t risk it.”

Draco sat glumly back down and scowled at the back of Crabbe’s head. Meanwhile, Fred passed the Quaffle to Angelina; she reverse passed to Harry, who had obviously not been expecting it, but caught it by the very tips of his fingers and passed it quickly to Ron, who lunged for it and missed by inches.

“Come on now, Ron,” said Angelina crossly, as Ron dived for the ground again, chasing the Quaffle. “Pay attention.”

It would have been hard to say whether Ron’s face of the Quaffle was a deeper scarlet when he returned again to playing height. Crabbe and the other team members were howling with laughter.

“I miss Adrian,” Sarah said to Draco, leaning against his side. “At least he wasn’t cruel.”

“They’re even making me miss Flint a bit,” Draco commented. “At least he was more focused on Quidditch than ridiculing people.”

On his third attempt, Ron caught the Quaffle; perhaps out of relief he passed it on so enthusiastically that it soared straight through Katie Bell’s outstretched hands and hit her hard in the face.

“Sorry!” Ron groaned, zooming forward to see whether he had done any damage.

“Get back in position, she’s fine!” barked Angelina. “But as you’re passing to a teammate, do _try_ not to knock her off her broom, won’t you? We’ve got Bludgers for that!”

Katie’s nose was bleeding. Down in the stands, the Slytherins around Sarah and Draco were stamping their feet and jeering. Fred and George converged on Katie.

“Here, take this,” Fred told her, handing her something small and purple out of his pocket. “It’ll clear it up in no time.”

“Oh shit,” Sarah hissed.

“What?” Draco said, his eyes trained on Harry.

“Fred gave her the wrong end,” she muttered, rummaging in her pockets.

“What?” said Draco again, confusion tainting his voice.

“He gave her the purple end of the chew!” Sarah said in rush. “It’s just going to make the nosebleed worse.”

She stood up and raced down the steps, ignoring what was happening in the air. She burst through the barrier and tried getting Fred or Angelina’s attention but to no avail. Ever since Fred and George had been producing their Skiving Snackboxes, they had made sure Sarah always had the antidote to the chews in case anyone gave her one. Sarah had been helping them work on the Nosebleed Nougats’ antidote because they were having difficulties counteracting the Blood Blisterpod to stop the blood flow once ingested. Fred, the loveable idiot, had given Katie an unfinished chew, meaning that she had only consumed the Blood Blisterpod.

Sarah had found a variation of a blood clotting potion which she altered so that it could be solidified into a chewable form. She now had the finalised test product with her; Fred and George had planned on testing it after practice.

Angelina’s whistle sounded and Sarah looked up; Katie was now chalk-white and covered in blood. Harry, Alicia, Fred and George were all flying fast toward her.

“She needs the hospital wing,” Sarah heard Angelina say.

Fred said something in reply and them he and George were helping Katie to the ground.

“Fred! George!” Sarah called, waving her arms. They quickly shuffled over to her.

“Please tell me you have the antidote with you,” begged Fred. George was holding Alicia around the waist to keep her on her broom.

“I do,” Sarah replied, waving the small bag. “Give her one now and take her to the hospital wing. I’ll come with you guys so I can give her some potions.”

“You’re amazing, have I told you that recently,” Fred said, flying to the ground to let Sarah clamber on the back of his broom.

“Not the time, love,” she said. Fred flew alongside Alicia’s other side and Sarah reached out a hand to steady her.

The four of them zoomed off toward the castle.

“Fly around to the Eastside,” Sarah shouted above the wind. “There’s a terrace we can enter from.”

The twins didn’t question her and a few minutes later, they were supporting Katie through the glass doors, their brooms resting against the balcony railing. Sarah pushed through the hospital wing doors and held them open for the trio before rushing toward Madam Pomfrey’s office.

“Put her on a bed!” she called to the twins over her shoulder as she ran.

She found the potions she needed: a few Blood Replenishing and another Blood Clotting just in case. Hurrying back to Katie, she waved off Madam Pomfrey.

“It’s ok, I’ve got this one.”

Madam Pomfrey looked surprised for a moment before smiling widely.

“If you need me just call,” she said to Sarah before turning back to another student.

Sarah ushered George out of the way and handed Katie the Blood Clotting potion. Already, her nose had stopped bleeding as intensely from the earlier chew. The blood-flow completely stopped after she forced down the potion.

“I know, it doesn’t taste very nice, sorry,” Sarah sympathised, handing Katie the other potions. “These taste even worse, just so you know.”

“Thanks, Sarah,” Katie coughed, grimacing as she downed the first potion.

Meanwhile, Sarah waved her wand and cleaned off the blood that had dried on Katie’s uniform, face and hands. She also turned to the twins and cleaned their own clothes and hands from where some of Katie’s blood had gotten on them.

“Better?” she asked Katie.

The other girl nodded and leaned back against the pillows on the bed.

“I’m really sorry, Katie,” Fred said miserably. “I thought I had given you something else.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Katie said thickly. “Sarah, my nose still feels quite blocked. Can you do anything about that?”

Sarah shook her head. “The Blood Clotting potion takes up to ten minutes to work to its fullest effect. I don’t want to risk restarting the flow by clearing your nasal passages yet. It should do it naturally after about fifteen minutes.”

Katie nodded and closed her eyes.

Sarah turned to Fred and put her hands on her hips.

“And you,” she said in a serious tone, “be more careful with what you give people! If I hadn’t had the chew on me – which, by the way, was still a tester and may not have even worked – Katie would have lost even more blood and would’ve been worse off.”

Fred looked rightfully chastised. Sarah’s face softened and she rested a hand on her boyfriend’s arm.

“I know it was an accident,” she said with a small smile. “Just be more careful.”

“I will,” promised Fred.

Sarah turned back to Katie. “You’ll need to rest a while to recover the energy you lost. I think Madam Pomfrey will let you out in time for dinner.”

Katie nodded and said, “Thanks, Sarah.”

“No worries,” she replied. “Come on boys, you need to change, you stink.”

Sarah waved at Madam Pomfrey quickly before leaving the ward in between Fred and George. Fred wrapped an arm around her waist.

“You’re really good at that,” he commented as they walked to get their brooms.

“Hmm?” Sarah said.

“Healing,” George piped up. Sarah looked at him, slightly startled. “Fred’s right, you’re really good at it.”

“Oh, thank you,” she said to them both, blushing slightly. The blush only increased as Fred pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“You’ll be an excellent Healer one day, I know it,” he said earnestly. “I’ll be in great hands whenever an experiment goes wrong – “

“ – Or whenever he pisses me off enough that I decide to hex his ugly mug,” George interrupted, grinning.

“George, you’re identical,” Sarah commented wryly, raising an eyebrow.

They both gasped.

“What an insult!” George cried in a high voice.

“My own girlfriend,” bemoaned Fred, “saying the cruellest things.”

Sarah smirked.

“If you really want my opinion,” she said evenly. “Fred’s more attractive but George has better hair.”

They both laughed at each other.

Fred said, “Ha! _I’m_ more attractive!”

“Well, she’s dating you!” George countered. “She’s gotta find your face appealing in some way. But _I_ have better hair!”

“Let’s just all agree the _I’m_ the most attractive one out of the three of us,” Sarah said loudly, cutting off their arguments.

They both froze and contemplated it for a moment.

“You _can_ change your appearance,” George noted. “But I gotta agree with you on this one.”

Fred nodded. “Yep, you’re definitely the most attractive.”

Sarah smiled broadly.

“You know I only change my hair and eye colour, right?” she casually mentioned as they neared the Fat Lady. “I don’t change the other features of my face unless I have to.”

They both looked dumbstruck for a moment.

“You’re serious?” George said in amazement.

“You’re naturally that gorgeous?” Fred added.

Sarah frowned. “Should I be offended or flattered by that?”

“Flattered! Definitely flattered,” Fred said, smiling widely. “My girlfriend is the prettiest girl in school!”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Sarah muttered, blushing profusely.

“Well, I do, so deal with it,” he replied.

“Who would you say is the best-looking guy in your year?” George asked her.

“Draco,” Sarah said without hesitation. “But I think in a few years Harry will give him a run for his money.”

“That’s just because Draco is your best friend,” Fred said.

“Nah, mate, Draco’s good-looking,” George agreed. “It’s the pureblood bone structure I think.”

“Exactly!” Sarah cried. “His whole family is stunning, particularly his mother’s side. His father is a right bastard but Narcissa is stunning. Draco takes a lot after her.”

“What about that Blaise kid?” Fred asked. “I’ve heard rumours of him sleeping around a bit.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sarah nodded. “Blaise sleeps with anything that can walk. Draco can’t go into his dormitory any more without closing his eyes first. He once walked in on Blaise and Daphne shagging and then another occasion Blaise and Michael Corner.”

“That Ravenclaw bloke in your year?” George asked. Sarah nodded in agreement. “I didn’t know he swung that way.”

“I honestly don’t know if he does,” Sarah said. “I think Blaise just emits so much sex appeal that you find yourself in bed with him without thinking too much about it.”

“You and him never…?” Fred said slowly.

“NO! No,” Sarah assured. “No, never.”

Fred grinned again and said, “I thought Corner was dating Ginny now.”

“He is,” Sarah agreed. “Blaise doesn’t do dating.”

“Poor Draco, walking in on that twice,” George shuddered.

Sarah huffed. “It’s not as bad as listening to Pansy and Millicent shag in the bed next to you. They honestly go at it every night for hours. I’ve gone into Draco’s dorm just to get away from it. They’re Silencing Charms always fail right at the wrong point!”

George and Fred burst in laughter that echoed down the hallways. George pushed open the portrait hole after giving the password and led the way into the common room.

They found Harry, Hermione and Draco sitting in front of the fire, watching as Ron viciously ripped up a letter and muttered angrily under his breath. They had obviously been doing homework, as the table in front of them was covered in Astronomy charts, Rune translations, and history books.

“What did that parchment do to you?” Sarah asked Ron as she leant against the back of the sofa.

“Percy’s being a git,” he replied angrily, throwing the tiny pieces of paper into the fire. “Warning me off being friends with Harry. Stupid – Ministry – git!”

“Ooookay,” said Sarah. She jumped over the back of the couch and curled herself up against Hermione. Fred and George waved goodbye to them and disappeared off to their room.

“How’s Katie?” Harry asked.

“She’s fine,” Sarah replied, reaching forward to grab Hermione’s Rune translation. “I gave her some Blood Replenishing potions and told her to rest. She’ll be out by dinner. Hermione, that’s Dagaz not Laguz.”

“What?” Hermione said, pulling the paper toward her. “Dammit, I always get that one confused.”

She scribbled away, fixing the translation.

“Will you check this for me, Draco?” Harry asked, handing his boyfriend his astronomy chart.

Draco raised an eyebrow and said. “Harry, darling, Europa’s covered in ice not _mice_ …”

***

“What the _fuck_ does that mean?” Pansy high-pitched shriek caused Draco to close his eyes and take another sip of fortifying tea.

“Pansy, darling, it’s too early for you to be hitting notes that high,” he said mildly. He glanced around the hall, absentmindedly wondering where Sarah had gotten to. Harry’s messy black hair caught his eye across the hall and he smiled to himself. His boyfriend had his head on the table and was seemingly ignoring Hermione and Ginny chattering beside him. They hadn’t gotten to sleep until the early hours of morning – something that Draco couldn’t regret despite his horrid tiredness taking control over his body.

“Draco!” Pansy snapped her fingers in front of Draco’s face and brought his attention back to her. “Brilliant, he’s back with us.”

“Sorry, what did you say?”

Blaise smirked from across the table.

“She was just explaining how Umbitch has been appointed the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts,” he said smoothly. “I tried to stop her from distracting your daydreams – they seemed thrilling.”

“Fuck off, Blaise,” Draco muttered, taking another sip of tea. “So what does it mean now the hag’s High Inquisitor?”

“She can inspect the other teachers’ lessons,” Pansy said, reading from the article in the _Daily Prophet_. “Your father was quoted.”

“Of course he was,” Draco muttered.

“This is bad news,” Pansy continued. “The Ministry is slowly gaining more control.”

“And I assume you’re all getting heartfelt letters from your parents urging you to assist Umbridge in her “revolutionising intervention” however possible?” Theo added, a dry smile on his face.

The silence from everyone answered that question.

“Daphne mentioned that her parents had also warned her,” Blaise said.

“Was this before or after you fucked like rabbits?” Millicent asked crudely.

“After, if you must know,” Blaise said with a smirk. “You know you’re always welcome to join, Millie.”

“They can’t honestly expect us to just go along with her butting into our business,” Pansy said indignantly, interrupting Millicent’s reply.

“We may not have a choice, Pans,” Theo said quietly.

Pansy settled down and their group fell into an uneasy silence. It was quickly broken by Sarah’s loud arrival.

“What up, fuckers,” she announced as she fell into the seat beside Draco. She reached forward for a jug of orange juice. “Why do you all look like the Paris-made chocolates you love were discontinued?”

Pansy shoved the paper at her and she read it, spraying juice everywhere when she read the headline.

“The bitch!” she cried. Heads turned their way and Sarah snapped at them, “Pay attention to your own lives!”

She siphoned the juice off the paper and quickly scanned the article.

“This is going to make our lives so much harder,” she groaned.

Draco nodded. “We were just talking about that.”

Pansy suddenly leaned forward. “Sarah,” she said sweetly. Immediately, everyone was on edge.

“Yes, Pans?” Sarah asked cautiously.

“You’ve got a little something, right there,” smirked Pansy, indicating the side of Sarah’s neck.

Draco looked down and realised that Sarah had a purple-red bruise where her neck met her shoulder.

“Sarah!” he exclaimed. “What the fuck!”

Sarah prodded her neck and said calmly, “I do believe that’s a hickey.” She smirked at him. “You should be well acquainted with them, considering you have a fading one on your collarbone.”

Draco automatically raised a hand to his collarbone before he realised what he was doing. He lowered it quickly to his friends’ laughter.

“Is there where you disappeared to last night?” he asked Sarah, ignoring Blaise making crude gestures from across the table.

“Well, not originally,” Sarah replied, smirking wider. “It just ended up being more fun than I planned.”

Draco felt his face contort into a grimace.

“Oh, don’t give me that, Draco,” chided Sarah. “It’s not like you and Harry are blushing virgins. Harry takes great enjoyment in telling me how bloody fit you are. I’d be disgusted if I weren’t so overjoyed.”

“That’s different,” Draco said. “You’re like my sister. And knowing Fred is…” he shuddered.

Sarah raised an eyebrow. “If it makes you feel any better, we didn’t do anything,” she said, calmly cutting into her bacon. “Unlike _some_ people,” she added with a pointed look at Blaise, Pansy and Millicent, “I can actually control myself.”

“I didn’t need that much information,” Draco muttered.

Sarah smiled sweetly. “Don’t worry darling, you’ll be the first to know when I have sex.”

“Brilliant,” grumbled Draco, struggling to contain a smile.

“That’s sweet and all,” Blaise drawled, “but we’ve got class and your boyfriends are looking like lost puppies.”

Draco looked up at the same time as Sarah to see Harry and Fred waiting by the doors of the Great Hall, both chatting and throwing the occasional glance toward the Slytherin table.

“I don’t know why Fred waits for you,” Pansy said to Sarah as the boy in question made eye contact with his girlfriend, his face lighting up. “You don’t even share the same class.”

“He’s being a gentleman,” Sarah said with a fond smile. “He likes walking me to class.”

“And Harry is just dependent,” Draco said as his boyfriend waved impatiently at them. “We better go before they come over here and drag us away.”

“Kinky,” Blaise smirked, causing Sarah, Draco, Theo and Millicent to throw napkins and various utensils at him.

***

Harry got another week’s worth of detentions during their next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. Sarah had sat quietly fuming in her seat but Draco’s warning hand on her knee kept her from saying anything to support Harry.

She was waiting for him in the Gryffindor common that night with soothing balm.

The worst part about the detentions was Angelina’s reaction. She cornered him just as he and Sarah arrived at the Gryffindor table for breakfast Tuesday morning and shouted so loudly that Professor McGonagall came sweeping down upon the trio from the staff table.

“Miss Johnson, how _dare_ you make such a racket in the Great Hall! Five points from Gryffindor!”

“But Professor – he’d gone and landed himself in detention _again_ – “

“What’s this, Potter?” said Professor McGonagall sharply, rounding on Harry. Sarah awkwardly stood beside him as the Transfiguration professor stared him down. “Detention? From whom?”

“From Professor Umbridge,” muttered Harry, not meeting Professor McGonagall’s beady, square-framed eyes.

“Are you telling me,” she said, lowering her voice so that the group of curious Ravenclaws behind them could not hear, “that after the warning I gave you last Monday you lost your temper in Professor Umbridge’s class again?”

“Yes,” Harry muttered, speaking to the floor.

“Potter, you must get a grip on yourself! You are heading for serious trouble! Another five points from Gryffindor!”

“But – what? Professor, no!” Harry said, furiously. “I’m already getting punished by _her_ , why do you have to take points as well?”

“Because detentions do not appear to have any effect on you whatsoever!” said Professor McGonagall tartly. “No, not another word of complaint, Potter! And as for you, Miss Johnson, you will confine your shouting matches to the Quidditch pitch in future or risk losing the team Captaincy!”

She strode back toward the staff table. Angelina gave Harry a look of deepest disgust and stalked away, upon which Harry flung himself onto the bench beside Ron, fuming. Sarah sat down more calmly beside Draco.

“She’s taken points off Gryffindor because I’m having my hand sliced open every night! How is that fair, _how_?”

“I know, mate,” said Ron sympathetically, tipping bacon onto Harry’s plate, “she’s bang out of order.”

“She has a point, Harry,” Sarah said, looking at him sternly. “You need to not lose your temper with Umbridge.”

Harry scoffed. “That’s rich coming from you!” he said harshly. “If Draco hadn’t stopped you, you would’ve shouted at her as well.”

“Yes, but at least I can control myself,” Sarah argued. “I can’t risk the consequences – “

“Consequences?” Harry said in disbelief. “What? That nonsense Snape told you? You’re being stupid – your father can't touch anyone here. You’re just too afraid to stand up for the right thing.”

Sarah felt like he had punched her. Hermione gasped quietly beside her and Draco gaped at Harry.

“Fuck you, Potter,” she hissed, standing up and grabbing her bag. “Fuck. You.”

She stalked away from the table, hearing Draco turn and begin chastising his boyfriend in her wake.

Sarah did not speak to Harry at all through Transfiguration when he arrived from his Charms class. She sat next to Blaise on the other side of the room and ignored the green-eyed boy’s looks. It was easy to distract herself; Professor Umbridge was sitting in a corner, a clipboard on her lap.

Professor McGonagall matched into the room without giving the slightest indication that she knew Professor Umbridge was there.

“That will do,” she said and silence fell immediately. “Mr Finnigan, kindly come here and hand back the homework – Miss Davis, please take this box of mice – don’t be silly girl, they won’t hurt you – and hand one to each student – “

“ _Hem, hem_ ,” said Professor Umbridge, employing the same silly little cough she had used to interrupt Dumbledore on the first night of term. Professor McGonagall ignored her. Seamus handed back Sarah’s essay and she was pleased to see she had gotten an O.

“Right then, everyone, listen closely – Vincent Crabbe, if you do that to the mouse again I shall put you detention – most of you have no successfully vanished your snails and even those who were left with a certain amount of shell have the gist of the spell. Today we shall be – “

“ _Hem, hem_ ,” said Professor Umbridge.

“ _Yes_?” said Professor Umbridge, turning around, her eyebrows so close together they seemed to form one long, severe line.

“I was just wondering, Professor, whether you received my note telling you of the date and time of your inspec – “

“Obviously, I received it, or I would have asked you what you are doing in my classroom,” said Professor Umbridge, turning her back firmly on Professor Umbridge. Many of the students exchanged looks of glee. “As I was saying, today we shall be practicing the altogether more difficult vanishment of mice. Now, the Vanishing Spell – “

“ _Hem, hem_.”

“I wonder,” said Professor McGonagall in a cold fury, turning on Professor Umbridge, “how you expect to gain an idea of my usual teaching methods if you continue to interrupt me? You see, I do not generally permit people to talk when I am talking.”

Professor Umbridge looked as though she had just been slapped in the face. She did not speak, but straightened the parchment on her clipboard and began scribbling furiously. Looking supremely unconcerned, Professor Umbridge addressed the class once more.

“As I was saying, the Vanishing Spell becomes more difficult with the complexity of the animal to be vanished. The snail, as an invertebrate, does not present much of a challenge; the mouse, as a mammal, offers a much greater one. This is not, there, magic you can accomplish with your mind on your dinner. So – you know the incantation, let me see what you can do…”

By the end of the lesson, Sarah had managed to vanish her mouse as well as what remained of Blaise’s after he had given up. Professor McGonagall awarded her ten points and a faint smile before moving on to shout at Seamus, who had somehow caught his desk on fire.

Care of Magical Creatures earned Harry another night’s detention when he snapped at Crabbe while the other boy was describing how Buckbeak went to attack him. Draco had stepped forward and politely told Professor Umbridge that the Minister had already heard this story and, as the person who was injured, his recount held more weight than that of Crabbe’s.

Sarah went back to the Slytherin common room that night, having ignored Harry throughout dinner. Draco had joined them not long after, claiming, “I’m not attached to Harry’s hip. I can survive without him for a night.”

They steadily worked through their piles of homework and Sarah even found time to write a letter to Remus and Sirius. Draco added his own section at the bottom but wouldn’t let her read it, stuffing the finished letter in an envelope.

“I’ll send it off with Lyra tomorrow,” he said, talking about his eagle owl that he brought from home.

Sarah had acquiesced, too tired to argue any further. She laid across the couch, her head in Draco’s lap, and enjoyed the sensation of simply relaxing peacefully for a night. Pansy droned on about the newest Paris fashion line while Draco stroked Sarah’s hair.

“You would not _believe_ the threads they’re using – simply gorgeous!”

Eventually, the noise of the common room died down and the fire crackling became the loudest sound.

“She’s been stressed lately, is she okay?” Pansy’s soft voice said.

“Just something Sev told her,” Draco replied, continuing his soothing stroking. “About her father.”

Pansy sighed quietly. “She hasn’t been sleeping very well – she hides the bags under her eyes.”

Draco’s hand stilled slightly before resuming.

“How often?” he asked.

“Every night,” Pansy replied in a whisper. “It’s usually not obvious but sometimes I wake up for a glass of water and she’s in bed, reading.”

“Silencing Charms?”

“Yes. I don’t know what it’s like when she stays in Gryffindor.”

“Does she do that often?”

“You’d know that more than me.”

Draco sighed. “She doesn’t always come up to us,” he said. “I thought she stayed with Fred but he mentioned she’s only stayed with him one night.”

“Where do you think she goes?” Pansy asked.

“Somewhere quiet. Somewhere she can be alone without worrying about what others are thinking.”

“I worry about her,” Pansy confessed.

“Me too,” Draco said softly.

Sarah drifted off to sleep soon after they fell into silence and by morning she had forgotten all about the whispered conversation.


	9. Chapter Nine

The morning of the first Hogsmeade visit dawned bright but windy. After breakfast, Sarah, Draco, Blaise, Pansy, Millicent and Theo queued up in front of Filch, who matched their names to the long list of students who had permission from their parents or guardian to visit the village. Sarah still wasn’t talking to Harry, but Hermione had told her that he had agreed to Hermione’s idea for a Defense group. Some students would be meeting at the Hog’s Head later in the day so Hermione could talk to them.

“It’s fucking frigid!” Draco snapped, pulling his scarf higher up his face. “My nose is going to fall off.”

“At least it’ll be less pointy then,” Sarah teased, shivering under her jacket.

Draco shot her an offended look. “Whatever did I do to you to deserve such slander against me?”

Sarah poked his cold nose. “We should hurry before Draco resembles Voldemort. Trust me – not a good look.”

Draco’s expression warred between horrified and amused, until he eventually settled on resigned. “I guess it’s good you can joke about that now,” he muttered, slinging an arm over her shoulders.

Sarah smirked. “It’s called a coping mechanism, darling. I excel at those.”

Draco frowned and gripped her tighter. “Come on,” he said, “I want more Sugar Quills.”

They walked down the main street past Zonko’s Joke Shop, where they were unsurprised to see Fred, George and Lee Jordan, past the post office, from which owls issues at regular intervals, and turned into Honeydukes.

Draco, Pansy and Theo went wild, grabbing copious amounts of chocolates and sweets while Sarah and Millicent watched on.

“What on earth is Blaise doing?” Millicent said, curling her lip in the dark-skinned boy’s direction.

Blaise was leaning against one of the walls, smiling brilliantly at a tall, tanned girl with curly blond hair.

“Is that Jessibah Duncan?” Sarah asked, raising an eyebrow. Blaise had stepped closer to the girl, who giggled and curled a finger around a strand of her hair. Her blouse was unbuttoned enough that the generous swell of her breasts could be seen. “How is she not freezing?”

“Slags have their own way of making heat,” Millie commented, smirking when Blaise rested a hand on Jessibah’s waist. “If he’s not careful, he’ll pick up a disease.”

Sarah snorted. “Isn’t she a seventh year? And a Ravenclaw?” she said. “I’m sure she knows protection charms.”

“A galleon she fucks him out in the back alley,” Millie bet, turning to Sarah with a smirk.

Sarah shook her head. “We’re meeting at the Hog’s Head soon,” she said, “It’ll definitely be behind the Three Broomsticks later.”

“You’re on.”

“What are you two scheming about?” Theo asked, coming up beside them with a bag of sweets. Draco and Pansy were paying for their enormous piles of chocolates.

Millicent nodded towards where Blaise and his newest conquest were standing. He had slipped his dark hand up the back of her shirt and was now mouthing at her neck. Theo grimaced as he followed Millicent’s eye line.

“Just betting on where they’ll shag,” Millicent said with an evil smile. “I think we were wrong, Sarah. They might just do it here.”

She had a point. Blaise and Jessibah were snogging rather passionately in the corner and Sarah noticed that one of Blaise’s hands had disappeared from view.

Draco and Pansy came over with their purchases and said, “We’re ready. Where’s Blaise?”

Sarah pointed. Identical disgusted expressions adorned their faces.

“Shot not getting him,” Pansy said quickly. Draco, Millicent and Theo quickly echoed the sentiment with Sarah being half a second too late.

“Fuck you all,” she hissed as she stomped her way over to Blaise. “Oi! Zabini! We’re going now.”

Blaise separated from Jessibah with a horrid suctioning sound and turned to glare at Sarah.

“I’m kind of busy, if you hadn’t noticed,” he said.

She shrugged unapologetically. “The owner’s about to kick you out anyway.” She nodded toward the back of the shop where the owner was standing arguing with the person behind the till while gesturing angrily in Blaise’s direction. “Besides, we have places to be,” continued Sarah. “Nice seeing you, Jessica.”

Blaise rolled his eyes but followed Sarah when she turned to leave.

“I’m pretty sure that wasn’t her name,” he commented casually as they joined the others.

“And you’re telling me you actually knew it?” Sarah said, quirking an eyebrow.

“I didn’t say that,” he smiled coyly. “I can’t believe you spoiled my fun.”

“Don’t worry, darling, I’m sure Daphne will be available tonight,” Sarah replied. “Or maybe you can get lucky with Jessibah after our meeting.”

“That was it!” Blaise said, snapping his fingers. “I knew you were close with Jessica.”

Sarah snorted and linked her arm through Draco’s.

“Let’s go meet your stupid boyfriend before I give in to my urge to go get a butterbeer,” she said to him, drinking in the warmth from his side.

“I can’t believe you’re still not talking to him,” Draco sighed. “He’s been complaining about it for a week.”

Sarah scowled. “He was being a git. He needs to apologise to me.”

Draco nodded. “I know and I agree. It’s just weird to see you guys fighting. You never have before, not to this extent.”

“There’s a first for everything,” Sarah said heavily. “I don’t want to fight with him. But he hurt me.”

Draco pulled her into a hug, the others walking ahead of them.

“He’ll do the right thing,” he promised. “I don’t think he really realises he needs to suck up his pride and apologise.”

Sarah nodded, face in Draco’s chest. She took a deep breath and pulled back.

“Until then,” she said, “I’m not talking to him.”

Draco smiled softly and held her hand tightly as they continued walking to the Hog’s Head. They found the other four Slytherins waiting outside the door, disgusted expressions on their faces.

“This is a shit hole,” Millicent stated, her lip curling. “Why does Granger want us to meet here?”

Sarah shrugged. “Apparently it’s not as popular with the students,” she said, pushing the door open.

“I can see why,” Blaise muttered, following close behind.

It was not at all like the Three Broomsticks, whose large bar gave an impression of gleaming warmth and cleanliness. The Hog’s Head bar comprised one small, dingy, and very dirty room that smelled strongly of something that might have been goats. The bay windows were so encrusted with grime that very little daylight could permeate the room, which was lit instead with the stubs of candles sitting on rough wooden tables. The floor seemed at first glance to be earthy, though as Sarah stepped onto it she realised that there was stone beneath what seemed to be the accumulated filth of centuries.

Sarah shuddered and stepped tentatively forward.

“I’m going to have to burn these clothes,” Pansy muttered.

“Sarah! Over here!” Hermione’s voice called out. She was standing at a large table in the corner full of students. On either side of her were Harry and Ron, both looking uncomfortable. Sarah recognised nearly all the others: Neville, Dean, Lavender Brown, Parvati and Padma Patil, Cho Change and one of her stuck-up friends, Luna, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson, Colin and Dennis Creevey , Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff girl with a long plait down her back whose name Sarah did not know; three Ravenclaws she was pretty sure were called Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner and Terry Boot; Ginny, a tall skinny blond Hufflepuff boy with an upturned nose, and Fred, George and Lee.

“Holy shit, Hermione, this is a _few_ people?” Sarah said as she joined the group. Harry and Ron had saved some seats near them at the front of the table so the Slytherins split up to sit down. Draco dragged Sarah over to the two seats beside Harry, despite her glare.

Hermione blushed. “Yes, well, the idea seemed quite popular,” she said happily. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Yes, sorry we’re late,” Sarah said, sitting carefully on the dirty chair. “Draco and Pansy were determined to buy out Honeydukes.”

“Bitch,” Draco said, happily leaning against Harry.

“Wanker,” she calmly replied.

“Okay,” Hermione said quickly, cutting off Draco’s retort. “Er – well – er – hi.”

The group focused its attention on her, though eyes continued to dart back regularly to Harry.

“Well…erm…well, you know why you’re here. Erm…well, Harry here had the idea – I mean” – Harry had thrown Hermione a sharp look – “I had the idea – that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts – and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us” – (Hermione’s voice became suddenly much stronger and more confident) – “because nobody could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts” – “Hear, hear,” said Sarah, and Hermione looked heartened – “well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands.”

She paused, looked sideways at Harry, and went on, “And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just theory but the real spells – “

“You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L too though, I bet?” said Michael Corner.

“Of course I do,” said Hermione at once. “But I want more than that, I want to be properly trained in Defense because…because…” She took a great breath and finished, “Because Lord Voldemort’s back.”

The reaction was immediate and predictable. Cho’s friend shrieked and slopped butterbeer down herself, Terry Boot gave a kind of involuntary twitch, Pansy shuddered, and Neville gave an odd yelp that he managed to turn into a cough. All of them, however, looked fixedly, even eagerly, at Harry.

“Well…that’s the plan anyway,” said Hermione. “If you want to join us, we need to decide how we’re going to – “

“Where’s the proof You-Know-Who’s back?” said the blond Hufflepuff boy in a rather aggressive voice.

“Well, Dumbledore believes it – “ Hermione began.

“You mean, Dumbledore believes _them_ ,” said the blond boy, nodded at Harry and Sarah.

“Who are _you_?” said Draco rather rudely.

“Zacharias Smith,” sand the boy, “and I think we’ve got a right to know exactly what makes _them_ say You-Know-Who’s back – I mean she’s a Slytherin. Who’s to say it isn’t a big plot of theirs to cause panic?”

“ _Excuse_ you – !” Sarah said hotly, rising slightly from her chair.

“Look,” said Hermione, intervening swiftly as Neville pushed Sarah back down, “that’s really not what this meeting is supposed to be about – “

“It’s okay, Hermione,” said Harry. He was staring angrily around the group. “What makes me say You-Know-Who’s back?” he asked, looking Zacharias straight in the face. “I saw him. And so did Sarah. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn’t believe him, you don’t believe me, and I’m not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone.”

The whole group seemed to have held its breath while Harry spoke. Sarah had the impression that even the barman was listening in. He was wiping the same glass with a filthy rag; it was becoming steadily dirtier.

Zacharias said dismissively, “All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you two brought Diggory’s body back to Hogwarts. He didn’t give us details, he didn’t tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we’d all like to know – “

“If you’ve come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can’t help you,” Harry said. “I don’t want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that’s what you’re here for, you might as well clear out.”

Sarah looked at Hermione angrily.

“Hermione, this isn’t what we agreed to,” she said. “I’m not going to sit here and let people like _him_ spit on Cedric’s memory.” She cast a nasty look at Zacharias Smith.

“Wait – Sarah, don’t leave,” Hermione said urgently.

“Why not?” Sarah asked. “It’s obvious that most of the people here just want to hear about what happened that night. It’s none of their _business_.”

“I know,” Hermione pleaded. “But we really need to learn Defense.”

“Then we can do it privately,” Sarah suggested. “Remus can send us suggestions like he did last year – “

“Is it true,” interrupted the girl with the long plait down her back, looking at Harry, “that you can produce a Patronus?”

Sarah’s mouth snapped shut as a murmur of interest flowed around the group.

“Yeah,” said Harry slightly defensively.

“A corporeal Patronus?”

Sarah peered closely at the girl as Harry blinked and said, “Er – you don’t know Madam Bones, do you?”

The girl smiled.

“She’s my auntie,” she said. “I’m Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So – is it really true? You can make a stag Patronus?”

“Yes,” said Harry.

“Blimey, Harry!” said Lee, looking deeply impressed. “I never knew that!”

“Mum told Ron not to spread it around,” said Fred, grinning at Harry. “She said you got enough attention as it was.”

“She’s not wrong,” mumbled Harry and a couple of people laughed. A veiled witch sitting alone across the pub shifted very slightly in her seat.

“And did you kill a basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore’s office?” demanded Terry Boot. “That’s what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year…”

“Er – yeah, I did,” said Harry. “But Draco helped – “

Draco scoffed. “Please, I was trying to revive Ginny the entire time,” he said, smiling at Harry fondly. “The most I did was shout at you when you were stumbling in the wrong direction.”

Harry smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, but you and Ron still helped…”

“And in our first year,” said Neville to the group at large, “he saved that Phosoper’s Stone – “

“Philosopher’s,” hissed Hermione.

“Yes, that, from You-Know-Who,” finished Neville.

Justin Finch-Fletchley whistled, the Creevey brothers exchanged awestruck looks, and Lavender Brown said “wow” softly. Harry shook his head quickly.

“That definitely wasn’t just me,” he argued. “I wouldn’t have even got that far without Hermione, Ron, Draco and Sarah.”

“Yeah, but you were still the one to get it at the end, weren’t you?” Neville said.

“Only because Sarah tackled Quirrell when he was strangling me!” countered Harry. “She definitely did more than me!” People gasped as they looked toward Sarah in shock.

“Fuck off, Potter, that’s a horrible attempt at an apology,” Sarah said, fighting now a smile.

“It’s the truth,” argued Harry. “But I do want to apologise later.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Idiot.”

“And that’s not to mention,” said Cho (she was staring directly at Harry and smiling, who shifted uncomfortably) “all the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year – getting past dragons and merpeople and acromantulas and things…”

There was a murmur of impressed agreement around the table.

“Yes, we get it,” Sarah said evenly. “Harry has down some impressive things, I’m sure you’ll read about it in a book eventually. Can we get back to the point of this meeting?”

Harry looked at her gratefully.

“Yes, well,” said Hermione hastily, “moving on…the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?”

There was a murmur of general agreement.

“Woah, woah, wait,” Sarah said, frowning at Hermione. “When we discussed this you said we wouldn’t make Harry do it alone. How come he’s the only one teaching? It should be collaborative.”

“Well, I thought it would work better if Harry taught us and then we all practised together,” Hermione facing, flushing slightly.

Harry suddenly spoke. “You mean you knew about this before Hermione organised it?” he asked Sarah. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, it’s not like I’ve been talking to you recently, you git,” Sarah said hotly, crossing her arms. “I didn’t know Hermione had mentioned it to you until yesterday.”

Harry’s face fell slightly and Hermione quickly took control again.

“Right,” she said, looking relieved that something had at last been settled. “Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don’t think there’s any point in meeting less than once a week – “

“Hang on,” said Angelina, “we need to make sure this doesn’t clash with our Quidditch practice.”

“No,” said Cho, “nor with ours.”

“Nor ours,” added Zacharias Smith.

“Us too,” Draco piped up.

“I’m sure we can find a night that suits everyone,” said Hermione slightly impatiently, “but you know, this is rather important, we’re talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort’s Death Eaters – “

“Well said!” barked Ernie Macmillan, whom Sarah had expected to speak long before this. She still didn’t like him that much after his rather rude comments in their second year.

“All we have to do is find somewhere that works for us to practice in,” said Hermione. “We’ll send a message round to everybody when we’ve got a time and place for the first meeting.”

She rummaged in her bag and produced parchment and a quill, then hesitated, rather as though she was steeling herself to say something.

“I-I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think,” she took a deep breath, “that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we’re going. So if you sign, you’re agreeing not to tell Umbridge – or anybody else – what we’re up to.”

Fred reached out for the parchment and cheerfully put down his signature with a wink at Sarah. As everyone got up to sign the parchment, Sarah walked up behind Hermione.

“What did you do to it?” she whispered to Hermione.

Hermione grimaced but muttered, “Hexed it so that if anyone blabs, we’ll know.”

“Hmm,” Sarah said with a smirk, “Very Slytherin of you.”

“Sarah,” hissed Pansy from Ron’s other side. “Come here for a moment, will you?”

Sarah wandered over with a slight frown. “What’s up?”

“Is it a good idea for us to sign up?” Pansy said, looking at the parchment hesitantly. “I mean, what if we get caught? We’ll all be in deep shit.”

Sarah shrugged. “You guys will be fine,” she assured. “Draco and I will have the real problems – our fathers will probably kill us.”

Pansy grimaced but nodded. “If the shit hits the fan, you owe me,” she said, signing her name with a flourish.

“Of course, darling,” Sarah said. she signed her own name and passed the sheet to Draco, who sighed resignedly but wrote his name.

“My father will be so pissed,” he muttered. Harry lay a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“We’re with you if anything happens,” he said to Draco. “Promise.”

“Yeah, hun,” Sarah agreed. “Your father’s a bastard but we can take him. Narcissa alone can make him cower with his tail between his legs.”

Draco smiled slightly at that and handed the sheet of paper back to Hermione.

“Well, time’s ticking on,” said Fred briskly, getting to his feet. “George, Lee, and I have got items of a sensitive nature to purchase, we’ll be seeing you all later.”

In twos and threes the rest of the group took their leave too. Cho tried dawdling but her friend clicked her tongue impatiently. Draco frowned and wrapped his arm around Harry, kissing him quickly.

“What was that for?” Harry asked, smiling at him.

“I don’t share,” Draco replied, glaring at where Cho was making a quick exit.

“Well, I think that went quite well,” said Hermione happily as they all walked out of the Hog’s Head. Pansy and Millicent had gone off together and Theo had returned to the castle. Blaise had already disappeared, probably to find Jessibah and shove his tongue down her throat.

“That Zacharias bloke’s a wart,” said Ron, who was glowering after the figure of Smith just discernible in the distance.

“I don’t like he much either,” admitted Hermione, “but he overhead me to Ernie and Hannah at the Hufflepuff table and he seemed really interested in coming, so what could I say? But the more people the better really – I mean, Michael Corner and his friends wouldn’t have come if he hadn’t been going out with Ginny – “

Ron, who had been draining the last few drops from his butterbeer bottle, gagged and sprayed butterbeer down his front.

“He’s WHAT?” said Ron, outraged, his ears now resembling curls of raw beef. “She’s going out with – my sister’s going – what d’you mean, Michael Corner?”

“Well, that’s why he and his friends came, I think – well, they’re obviously interested in learning defense, but if Ginny hadn’t told Michael what was going on – “

“When did this – when did she - ?”

“They met at the Yule Ball and they got together at the end of last year,” said Hermione composedly. They had turned into the High Street and she paused outside Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop, where there was a handsome display of pheasant-feather quills in the window. “Hmm…I could do with a new quill.”

She turned into the shop. Harry, Ron, Draco and Sarah followed her.

“Which one was Michael Corner?” Ron demanded furiously.

“The dark one,” said Hermione.

“I didn’t like him,” said Ron at once.

“Big surprise,” said Sarah under her breath.

“But,” said Ron, following Hermione along a row of quills in copper pots, “I thought Ginny still fancied Harry!”

Sarah and Hermione turned rather pitying looks on Ron.

“Harry’s gay _and_ in a relationship,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “As soon as she realised he was dating Draco, she gave up on him. No point going for someone who bats for the other team.”

“I think Cho needs to get that memo,” Sarah said, frowning slightly. “Draco’s kissed Harry in front of her and she _still_ tries to flirt with him.”

“I don’t like her,” Draco said, scowling.

“Babe, I’m not interested in her at all,” Harry said, smiling slightly. “I don’t even like _girls_.”

Hermione bought a quill and chastised Ron for harping on about Ginny’s dating life. Harry turned to Sarah. “Can we talk, please?” he said nervously.

Sarah nodded. “We’ll meet you guys in the Three Broomsticks in a bit,” she said to the others as they left the quill shop.

Harry led Sarah to an alley between two shops and stood awkwardly in front of her. She leant against the wall and crossed her arms, looking at the sheepish, pacing boy.

“I’m sorry,” Harry blurted, spinning to face her. His green eyes bright and sincere. “I shouldn’t have said that to you. It’s no excuse but I was just so angry at Umbridge and McGonagall and Angelina and I took it out on you. I’m really sorry.” He looked at her hopefully but she remained silent. “Aren’t – aren’t you going to say anything?” he said after a minute of extended silence, his face falling slightly.

Sarah shrugged.

“I’m still waiting for you to apologise for being a git to me for the past few weeks with no reason when you should have eaten your pride and just acted like a decent friend,” she said casually.

Harry cringed. He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his thick curls.

“I really am sorry for being a git to you, Sarah,” he said, looking up at her through his lashes. “Whenever I thought about apologising to you, I would just always get irrationally angry about it again…and then I wouldn’t…” he paused and sighed heavily. “Can you forgive me?”

Sarah scrutinised him intently. He had dark bags under his eyes and looked paler than usual.

“How much sleep are you getting?” she asked, ignoring his question.

“How – what?” he said in surprise.

“How much sleep are you getting?” she repeated patiently.

“Not much,” he confessed. “I’m having weird dreams about a corridor and a door that doesn’t open…” He cocked his head at her. “Does this mean I’m forgiven…?”

Sarah rolled her eyes and smiled at him.

“Darling, I was always going to forgive you,” she stated. “I just wanted you to grow up and learn your lesson.”

Harry smiled broadly at her and leapt forward, grabbing her in a tight embrace and spinning her around.

“I missed talking to you,” he said into her hair. “And just having you make comments about everything happening around us. I promise I’ll try to work on my temper; I don’t want to push you away.”

Sarah leaned back and rolled her eyes again. She rested her arms on his shoulders and played with strands of his hair. “We need to figure out why you’re suddenly feeling angry all the time,” she voiced. “You weren’t like this before this year…”

“Well, considering everything that’s happened in the last few months, I think I’m allowed to be slightly peeved off,” Harry said wryly.

Sarah nodded. “Yes, _slightly_ peeved off. Not snapping at everyone and pushing away your closest friends. I mean, have you even sat down a talked to Draco in the last few days? He’s been moping around the common room claiming that you barely give him the time of day.”

Harry frowned. “Now that I think about it, I have been distancing myself slightly,” he said. “I thought it was because I was tired and everyone else still thinks I’m a liar.”

“Not a good enough reason to ignore your boyfriend,” Sarah scolded, poking his chest. “I don’t want to see Draco in Slytherin for a few nights and I expect him to be in a great mood every day.”

Harry blushed brightly. “Sarah!” he said, scandalised. “I’m not talking about my sex life!”

“No, we aren’t,” she agreed, smirking widely. “Not yet at least. I want us to have a drink in our hands and sweets on the bed between us. We can exchange stories.”

“No, no, no!” Harry spluttered. Sarah burst into joyous laughter and spun out of Harry’s grip.

“All right lover-boy,” she announced, threading her arm through his, “let’s get out of this gale. My hair is going to look as bad as yours!”

“OI!”

“Love you too.”

***

Days were much more pleasant now that Harry and Sarah had made up. It was like a knife held over their friends’ heads had been removed; everyone was in a good mood and wasn’t tripping over their words trying not to upset anyone. Harry, true to his promise, left Draco trying to fight a smile every day, to Sarah’s great amusement. The blond couldn’t seem to stop looking like he had just won the world’s greatest prize, and, judging by the discoloured bruises Sarah saw on his neck one day, she could guess the reason why. Harry, too, was happier than he had been in the past few weeks. He was also sleeping better, the dark bruises beneath his eyes slowly disappearing.

Classes were amping up. The fifth and seventh years could always be seen in either the library or their common rooms, working frantically through the piles of homework they were being given. On top of that, Umbridge had enacted an Educational Degree disbanding all clubs, something which made Sarah believe that they had been overheard in the Hog’s Head.

“It’s not surprising,” she told Hermione one day when they were studying. “We didn’t even use a Silencing Charm. Anyone could have heard and reported us to Umbitch.”

Hermione frowned. “You shouldn’t call her that where you can be overheard,” she warned.

“I don’t really care, to be honest,” Sarah said. “I’m just pissed that we have to get the Quidditch team approved.”

It turned out that Umbridge approved the Slytherin Quidditch team immediately but was dawdling with the Gryffindor team. Professor McGonagall eventually went to Dumbledore, an act that caused Umbridge to go into a fury. She was now inspecting classes with a dangerous air about her. It was only a matter of time before something went wrong.

The defense club meetings had started. Dobby had found a room on the seventh floor and told Harry about it, who got the message around to all the members. They had obviously continued with the idea despite Umbridge’s best attempts to control the students.

“You sure Dobby said this was where the room was?” Sarah asked again as she, Harry, Draco, Hermione and Ron stood in front of a blank wall opposite the tapestry of Barnaby the Barmy being clubbed by trolls on the seventh floor.

“Yes,” Harry confirmed. “Dobby said to walk past this bit of wall three times, concentrating hard on what we need.”

Sarah and Draco exchanged incredulous looks but let Harry walk back and forth in front of the wall. To their surprise, a highly polished door materialised in the wall. Ron was staring at it, looking slightly weary. Harry reached out, seized the brass handle, pulled open the door, and led the way into a spacious room lit with flickering torches like those that illuminated the dungeons eight floors below.

The walls were lined with wooden bookcases, and instead of chairs there were large silk cushions on the floor. A set of shelves at the far end of the room carried a range of instruments such as Sneakoscopes, Secrecy Sensors, and a large, cracked Foe-Glass.

“These will be good for when we’re practising Stunning,” said Ron enthusiastically, prodding one of the cushions with his foot.

“Thank you for just volunteering for being the practice dummy,” Draco said, walking inside hand-in-hand with Harry.

“And just look at these books!” said Hermione excitedly, running a finger along the spines of the large, leather-bound tomes. “Wow…”

Draco’s eyes lit up and he pulled Harry over to the bookcases, perusing them eagerly beside Hermione.

Harry smiled fondly at his boyfriend. “Are you sure you weren’t meant to be in Ravenclaw?”

“Excuse you,” called Sarah from across the room where she was writing on the blackboard attached to the wall. “Slytherins are extremely smart. Don’t be House-ist.”

“That’s not a word,” Harry said, dragging Draco away from the books and wrapping his arms around the other boy’s waist.

“Eh, semantics,” Sarah said, waving a hand dismissively.

There was a gentle knock on the door. Sarah looked around, chalk raised; Ginny, Neville, Lavender, Parvati and Dean had arrived.

“Whoa,” said Dean, staring around, impressed. “What is this place?”

Harry started to explain, but more people arrived, causing him to stop and wait for everyone. By the time eight o’clock arrived, every cushion was occupied. Harry moved across to the door and turned the key protruding from the lock; it clinked in a satisfyingly loud way and everybody fell silent, looking at him. He went to stand at Draco’s side and gripped his hand as Harry looked at everyone slightly nervously.

“Well,” said Harry, glancing quickly at Draco. He nodded at Harry, who smiled and continued, “This is the place we’ve found for practices. I’m glad you’ve found it all right – “

“It’s fantastic!” said Cho, and several people murmured their agreement.

“It’s bizarre,” said Fred, frowning around at it. “We once hid from Filch in here, remember, George? But it was a broom cupboard then…”

“Hey Harry, what’s this stuff?” asked Dean. Harry began to explain the Dark Detectors so Sarah turned back to the blackboard. She had nearly finished the drawing of a toad in the bottom corner.

Harry addressed the group again. “Well, I’ve been thinking about the sort of stuff we ought to do first and – er – “ He had noticed a raised hand. “What, Hermione?”

“I think we ought to elect a leader,” said Hermione.

“Harry’s leader,” said Cho at once, looking at Hermione as though she was mad. Draco scowled slightly and Harry winced infinitesimally.

“Yes, but I think we ought to vote on it properly,” said Hermione, unperturbed. “It makes it formal and gives him authority.”

“I don’t want to lead this alone,” Harry said quickly. “I’ll help teach you but I’m not running this by myself.” He turned to Draco with a hopeful expression. “Help me? Please?” he said, looking up at Draco with his big, round, green eyes.

Draco sighed in resignation. “It’s a good thing you’re cute,” he muttered, smiling fondly at Harry.

“Brilliant!” Harry said, turning back to the group. “So Draco and I will be the official leaders. And Sarah if she agrees,” he added with a look in her direction.

Sarah paused drawing and turned to see everyone looking at her. Fred burst out laughing when he noticed her drawing.

Harry was still waiting for her response.

“Well, I guess why not,” she said. “It’s not like I can expect you boys to actually get work done. You’ll be too busy staring at each other and snogging to plan the meetings.”

Ron and Blaise burst into laughter as Draco and Harry blushed.

“Why can’t Hermione and Ron help run it though?” Sarah added. “It was Hermione’s idea in the first place.”

“We said no,” Ron confessed nonchalantly. “Can’t honestly be bothered doing any more work.”

“Ronald, that was not the reason why!” Hermione tutted.

Ron shrugged unapologetically. “It was my reason.”

“Er – right, anyway,” Harry said, eyeing the pair out of the corner of his eyes. “If no one has any problem with Draco, Sarah and I being in charge…? No? Excellent. And – _what_ , Hermione?”

“I also think we ought to have a name,” she said brightly, her hand still in the air. “It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don’t you think?”

“Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?” said Angeline hopefully.

“Or the Ministry of Magic Are Morons Group?” suggested Fred. Sarah threw a piece of chalk at him and he stuck his tongue out at her.

“I was thinking,” said Hermione, frowning at Fred, “more of a name that didn’t tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside meetings.”

“The Defense Association?” said Pansy. “The D.A for short, so nobody knows what we’re talking about?”

“Yeah, the D.A’s good,” said Ginny. “Only let’s make it stand for Dumbledore’s Army because that’s the Ministry’s worst fear, isn’t it?”

There was a good deal of appreciative murmuring and laughter at this.

“All in favour of the D.A?” said Hermione bossily, kneeling up on her cushion to count. “That’s a majority – motion passed!”

“Merlin, please don’t go into politics, Hermione,” Sarah groaned. “I swear you’d wipe the floor clean with all the horrid old men who dared question you.”

“Why thank you, Sarah,” Hermione replied as she scribbled the group name at the top of the list of names and levitated it over to Sarah. “Pin that up, will you?”

Sarah put it in the corner of the blackboard and spun around to lean against the wall once she was finished.

“Thanks, Sarah,” Harry said, gaining the group’s attention again. “Right, shall we get practicing then? I was thinking, the first thing we should do is _Expelliarmus_ , you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it’s pretty basic but I’ve found it really useful – “

“Oh _please_ ,” said Zacharias Smith, rolling his eyes and folding his arms. “I don’t think _Expelliarmus_ is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?”

“Harry used it against him in June,” Sarah snapped. “It saved his life. So shut the fuck up, Smith.”

Smith opened his mouth stupidly. The rest of the room was very quiet.

“But if you think it’s beneath you, you can leave,” Harry said.

Smith did not move. Nor did anybody else.

“Okay,” said Harry. “I reckon we should all divide into pairs and practice. Sarah, can you help me do a demonstration to refresh everyone?”

Sarah walked to the front of the room and stood opposite him.

“You just don’t want to hex your boyfriend,” she said with a smile, raising her wand. “At least let me hex you first.”

Harry rolled his eyes. Everyone watched them intently.

“We’ll just see who can disarm whom first,” he said, raising his own wand. “Okay, GO!”

Sarah immediately jumped to the side to avoid his spell and shot her own back at him. Harry ducked so Sarah cast again while he was distracted. Harry swore and lunged forward to stop his wand from flying away. He shot a spell at Sarah who shielded it and shot another back. Harry cursed as his wand flew from his grip into hers.

“You’re rusty, Potter,” drawled Sarah, twirling his wand between her fingers.

“I’ll get you next time,” he vowed. He turned back the group. “Everyone refreshed? Good. Get to it.”

Sarah walked throughout the crowd with Harry and watched the pairs at work. Draco had volunteered to practice with Neville, who was left without a partner. The room was suddenly full of shouts of “ _Expelliarmus!”_ : Wands flew in all directions, missed spells hit books on shelves and set them flying into the air. More than once, Sarah flicked her wand quickly to stop books from hitting someone or the floor and sent them zooming back to their original positions.

Sarah found Fred and George pointing their wands at Zacharias Smith behind his back, causing his wand to fly out of his grip whenever he went to disarm Anthony Goldstein. She cleared her throat and raised an eyebrow at them when they turned to face her.

“What?” Fred said defensively. “He’s a git.”

“Couldn’t resist…” added George.

Sarah rolled her eyes. “All right then,” she said with a smirk. “If you think you’ve had enough practice, go against me.”

Fred and George glanced at each other.

“You’re on,” they said in unison before taking up positions opposite her.

She secured her footing and looked up at them in concentration.

They moved at the same time and she dodged before sending two lightning-quick spells their way. The jets of light hit them and their wands flew toward her. She grabbed them from the air and smiled brightly at the dumbstruck boys.

“Maybe you need more practice,” she said happily. She threw their wands back to them and stalked up to Fred, giving him a quick kiss. “Less pranking, more practice.” She left them speechless behind them and arrived in time to see Pansy spectacularly disarm Blaise. He scowled at the dark-haired girl.

“Give it back,” he said, hand held out for his wand. “You got lucky that time.”

“You said that the last five times,” Pansy sang, throwing back his wand.

“Good job, Pans,” Sarah complimented. “Put him in his place.”

“Fuck off, Sarah!” shouted Blaise as she moved on.

A whistle suddenly sounded and everyone stopped firing. Ron had to duck a stray spell. Harry stood beside Draco again, who seemed very red in the face, as though he was holding back laughter.

“That wasn’t bad,” said Harry, “but there’s definite room for improvement.” Zacharias Smith glared at him. “Let’s try again…”

Everyone starting firing again.

“Sarah!” hissed Harry as she walked passed.

“What’s up?” she asked, ducking a burst of light that didn’t look like a Disarming Charm.

Harry pulled her close and whispered urgently. “I need you to go see how the others are doing over there,” he nodded toward the far corner, “I’ve been avoiding it because Cho keeps trying to make eye contact with me. I’d ask Draco but I’m worried he’d do something…”

“Damn right, I would,” interrupted Draco, appearing beside them. “That bint is _still_ trying to date you. It’s like she thinks you’re just having a phase or something!”

Sarah laughed at them. “I’ll do it, don’t worry,” she assured Harry. “And if you really want to make a message, just snog for a bit until someone calls you out on it. She’ll be bound to notice.”

Draco’s eyes lit up in excitement and he immediately turned toward Harry and wrapped his arms around the other boy’s neck.

“Off you pop, darling,” he said to Sarah. “I’ve got a boyfriend to snog.”

Sarah snorted and quickly walked to the other side of the room to correct people’s forms. Within a minute, Blaise let out a wolf-whistle and shouted, “Get a room, you two!”

Sarah looked up to see Draco and Harry separate, Harry looking very dazed but happy. She glanced at Cho to see the other girl scowling at Draco. _That won’t be good_ , thought Sarah.

“Hey Harry,” Hermione called from the other end of the room, “have you checked the time?”

Harry blinked a few times before her words processed. Draco smirked smugly the entire time.

Everyone quickly left the room in groups as they realised it was past curfew. Harry didn’t leave Draco’s side the entire time.

“I guess you won’t be coming back to Slytherin then?” Pansy called loudly at Draco as she left with Millicent, Blaise and Theo. “Use protection!”

“Fuck off, you bint!” was Draco’s reply.

Sarah waved goodbye to them and left the room arm in arm with Fred.

“Want to come back to my room and destroy George in poker?” Fred asked brightly, ducking around a corner to check the coast was clear.

“As long as you have liquorice wands as currency,” Sarah said, allowing Fred to tug her forward. “George won’t know what hit him.”

***

Sarah woke screaming that night.

“Sarah! Sarah! Come back!”

She ignored Fred’s shouts and vaulted from the room, uncontrollable shivers wracking her body. She pushed through the portrait hole and barely heard the Fat Lady exclaim in outrage behind her. She ran and ran and ran until she reached her secluded alcove. It was only then that she allowed the sobs to escape her body.

She didn’t get to sleep again that night.


	10. Chapter Ten

Sarah refused to talk about her nightmare which sent her running from Fred’s room four days ago. No matter how much Harry tried, he couldn’t get her to talk. He knew that Draco had been getting increasingly more and more worried about his friend – but she kept pretending she was fine. Fred had come up to Harry and asked if he knew anything. He didn’t. As a last resort, Harry had written a letter to Remus and Sirius, explaining the situation and asking for their help and advice.

Harry felt as though he were carrying some kind of talisman inside his chest over the following two weeks, a glowing secret that supported him through Umbridge’s classes and even made it possible for him to smile blandly as he looked into her horrible bulging eyes. The D.A was slowly advancing, moving on from simple jinxes to more complicated spells. Finding a time to hold a meeting was becoming increasingly impossible, as every day seemed to conflict with some other commitment.

Hermione and Draco approached him one afternoon as he was studying in the library with Sarah.

“We’ve got it,” Draco whispered, his blond head close to Harry’s. He held out his hand. In it was a pile of fake golden Galleons.

“What are these?” Harry asked.

Hermione smiled. “We’ll explain it tonight. Just take one now – you’ll see what it does soon.”

Harry frowned but accepted a Galleon. Across from him, Sarah was examining her own.

“Any idea what they’re talking about?” he asked her.

Her dark grey eyes met his.

“I think so…” she said slowly, peering at the numbers on the side of the coin. “Draco mentioned something about a charm…” She shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out tonight,” she said, slipping the coin into her pocket.

“How have you been sleeping?” Harry asked suddenly.

Sarah hesitated slightly before smiling widely. “Perfectly fine. Why do you ask?”

Harry narrowed his eyes.

“Sarah, you can’t bullshit me,” Harry said. “I don’t know if you realise it, but your eyes change colour sometimes based on your emotions. And if you’re especially tired, they go a dark grey.”

Sarah summoned a mirror and looked at herself.

“Well, fuck,” she stated. “That’s good to know.”

Harry kept staring at her until she sighed in resignation.

“Okay, fine, I’ve been having nightmares again,” she confessed, crossing her arms. “I didn’t want you all to worry.”

“Sarah, we’ve been worrying since you ran out of Gryffindor like something was chasing you,” Harry remarked.

“It was just a nightmare.”

“It obviously wasn’t,” countered Harry. “You would’ve found one of us or at least talked to Fred. But you didn’t, you disappeared.”

Sarah stiffened and opened her mouth a few times to speak but didn’t. Finally, she said, “I hate you, you know? You’re very persistent.”

Harry grinned broadly. “Learnt it from the best.”

“Hmm,” Sarah huffed. She reached into her bag and withdrew a letter. She gripped it tightly for a moment before passing it over to Harry. “This will offer some explanation.”

Harry frowned and unfolded the letter. After the first line, he scowled deeply.

_Dearest daughter,_

_I have been having some intriguing conversations with my acquaintances regarding you, darling daughter. They mentioned that you were recently in detention for shouting at Dolores Umbridge. I must say, I was extremely disappointed to hear that. I was sure you were upholding the Deaumont name, despite your_ questionable _associations._

_Have is your dear Fred Weasley, anyway? One would think it was impolite to not introduce your loving father to your boyfriend._

_On another note, Lucius heard the most unusual rumour yesterday. Apparently, his son seems to have formed an attachment to the Potter boy – a most inappropriate attachment. You wouldn’t know anything about this, would you? It would be a shame if the honourable name of Malfoy were tainted by such proclivities._

_Regardless, I merely wanted to express my pride at your proactiveness with your practical learning. Clubs were quite popular in my day at Beauxbatons. Madame Maxime was quite accepting of my last inquiry about placements at her school; she said that you were an extremely well-mannered girl when she met you last year._

_Do give my regards to Draco, Narcissa has been quite excited by the idea of seeing you both over Christmas._

_Do try to remember I only do what is best for you, my dear._

_Antonius Deaumont_

Harry looked up at Sarah; she was reclining in her chair, sucking on a Sugar Quill he was pretty sure she had stolen from Draco’s stash.

“Such a loving letter, don’t you think?” she said casually around the treat. “I sure do appreciate all those hidden threats and barely-veiled judgements.”

“When did you get this?” Harry asked, folding the letter carefully despite his urge to rip it to shreds.

“A few days ago,” she replied. “Nearly set it on fire at breakfast when I saw it.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, staring at the letter. “It reminds me of everything I’m fighting for.”

“Sarah, you don’t have to deal with this alone,” Harry beseeched. “ _Talk_ to us, please. Don’t keep this to yourself.”

“It’s not that easy, Harry,” she sighed.

“Why not?” he argued. “You’re always telling me to talk to you or Draco. Why won’t you talk to us -?”

“Because I don’t want to!” she exclaimed. Madam Pince hissed loudly for them to be quiet and silence descended over the table. “Because I don’t want to talk about it,” Sarah repeated very quietly. “If I don’t talk about, it goes away.”

“Sarah, you know it doesn’t work like that,” Harry said, frowning at her.

“I know,” she muttered. “But it works for me at the moment.”

“Sarah…”

“Don’t Harry,” she said sharply. “I’ll do it when I’m ready. Please accept that.”

Harry sighed but nodded. “Just promise me you’ll try.”

Sarah met his gaze and obviously saw that he wasn’t going to give up.

“Fine,” she huffed. “I promise.”

***

Sarah was glad that Harry hadn’t mentioned the letter to anyone, especially Draco. She didn’t want to explain that her father had shaken her enough to cause the nightmares to start anew. Luckily, with Hermione and Draco’s announcement, she didn’t have to answer any unwanted questions.

“You see the numerals around the edge of the coins?” Hermione said, holding up one for examination at the end of their D.A meeting that night. “On real Galleons that’s just a serial number referring to the goblin who cast the coin. On these fake coins, though, the numbers will change to reflect the time and date of the next meeting.”

Draco continued the explanation, “The coins will grow hot when the date changes, so if you’re carrying them in a pocket you’ll be able to feel them. We take one each, and when Harry sets the date of the next meeting he’ll change the numbers on _his_ coin, and because we’ve put a Protean Charm on them, they’ll change to mimic his.”

A blank silence met their words. They looked around at the upturned faces, rather disconcerted.

“Well – we thought it was a good idea,” Hermione said uncertainly, “I mean, even if Umbridge asked us to turn out our pockets, there’s nothing fishy about carrying a Galleon, is there? But…well, if you don’t want to use them…”

“You both can do a Protean Charm?” said Terry Boot.

“Yes,” replied Draco.

“But that’s…that’s N.E.W.T standard, that is,” he said weakly.

“Yes, it is,” Draco said smugly. Hermione blushed slightly.

“How come you’re not in Ravenclaw?” Terry demanded, staring at the pair with something like wonder. “With brains like yours?”

“Well, the Sorting Hat did seriously consider putting me in Ravenclaw during my Sorting,” said Hermione brightly, “but it decided on Gryffindor on the end.”

“Slytherin was the only option for me,” Draco said evenly. “Anyone who knows my father understands why.”

Sarah spoke into the silence. “Also, I would’ve strangled your arse if you left me alone in Slytherin to deal with Pansy and Blaise. Honestly, it takes all four of us to deal with those two and when Theo and Millie are busy I would’ve been alone.”

Draco laughed. “I’m sure you would have bullied to Sorting Hat to put you in Ravenclaw with me.”

“Excuse you,” Sarah said in fake offence. “It considered it. I _am_ extremely intelligent, you know.”

“And extremely modest,” Draco muttered with a smirk, loud enough for everyone to still hear him.

“That’s it!” exclaimed Sarah, standing up and gripping her wand. “Harry – change of plans, we’re going straight to curses and Draco has just volunteered as test subject.”

Harry jumped in front of his boyfriend and raised his hands.

“Maybe don’t curse him?” he suggested placatingly. “Just race him around the pitch or something. That way no one gets hurt.”

“Until she pushes him off his broom!” called Fred gleefully. “I want to see them duel.”

Harry shook his head. “No duelling, I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Aw, come on, darling,” Sarah pleaded. “I won’t hurt him _too_ badly, I am quite fond of him. I’ll even aim low so you can kiss it better.”

Most of the group burst into peals of laughter as Harry flushed a dark red.

Hermione quickly intervened.

“So does that mean we’re using the Galleons?” she asked, gently pushing Sarah’s wand down.

There was a murmur of assent and everybody moved forward to collect one from the basket. Sarah jumped forward onto Draco’s back and clasped her arms around his neck loosely.

“I wasn’t _actually_ going to curse you,” she assured, leaning down over his shoulder to look at him sideways. “It was only going to be like, _one_ small hex.”

“Love you too, darling,” Draco said, shaking his head. He didn’t shrug her off though and she rested comfortably on him like a koala cub.

“You know what these remind me of,” she said to Harry, Hermione and Draco quietly. Ron was helping hand out coins.

“No, what’s that?” Hermione asked.

“The Death Eater’s scars. Voldemort touches one of them, and all their scars burn, and they know they’ve got to join him.”

“Well…yes…” said Draco quietly. “That was where I got the idea from. Hermione suggested we put in Galleons as they were the most inconspicuous thing we could think of.”

“Well, I definitely prefer this one,” Sarah said. She straightened on Draco’s back. “Onward steed!”

***

As the first Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, drew nearer, their D.A meetings were put on hold because Angelina and Warrington insisted on almost daily practices. The fact that the Quidditch Cup had not been held for so long added considerably to the interest and excitement surrounding the forthcoming game. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were taking a lively interest in the outcome, for they, of course, would be playing both teams over the coming year; and the Heads of House of the competing teams, though they attempted to disguise it under a decent pretence of sportsmanship, were determined to see their side’s victory. Professor McGonagall cared so much about beating Slytherin that she didn’t give any homework in their joint Gryffindor and Slytherin Transfiguration class the week leading up to the match.

Snape was no less obviously partisan: He had booked the Quidditch pitch for Slytherin practice so often that the Gryffindors had difficulty getting on it to play; something that Harry and Ron were extremely angry about. He was also turning a deaf ear to reports of Slytherins hexing Gryffindor players in the corridors.

October extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and driving rain and November arrived, cold as frozen iron, with hard frosts every morning and icy drafts that bit at exposed hands and faces. The skies and the ceiling of the Great Hall turned a pale, pearly grey, the mountains around Hogwarts became snow-capped, and the temperature in the castle dropped so far that many students wore their thick protective dragon skin gloves in the corridors between lessons.

Sarah was eating breakfast the day of the match when a jet of light suddenly shot her way. Theo shouted and pushed her out of the way; the spell soared over their heads and hit the back wall of the Hall, leaving a smoking scorch mark behind.

“What the fuck was that?” Blaise shrieked, jumping to his feet.

Startled students were whispering and yelling to their neighbours. The teacher’s table was in an uproar.

“ENOUGH!” Snape screamed. Immediately, the Hall fell silent as the students froze. “If the person who threw that hex is not in my office in ten minutes,” he continued in a deadly quiet whisper, “I will ensure that they are _expelled._ ”

Sarah sat in shock, staring at the scorch mark.

“Thanks,” she said weakly to Theo.

Draco was glaring around the Hall.

“That could have taken your head off!” he growled, his wand was gripped tightly in his fist.

“It probably was just a hex,” Sarah said. Movement suddenly caught her eye and she saw Fred racing toward their table.

“Oh, Merlin, are you okay?” he gasped, kneeling in front of her.

“I’m fine,” she assured, kissing him gently. “Theo got me out of the way.”

Fred clasped his hand on Theo’s shoulder. “Nice work, mate,” he said.

“Who do you think cast it?” Theo asked, peering out at the sea of students that were slowly beginning to leave the Hall.

“No idea,” Sarah said. “But Snape is _furious_.”

Snape was talking angrily with Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, gesturing occasionally in their direction. After a severe nod, he spun around, cloak flaring behind him, and stomped from the Hall, students fleeing from his path.

“This is getting out of hand,” Draco said, uncharacteristically running his hand through his perfectly styled hair. It was a bad habit he had picked up from Harry. Pansy tutted at the motion but didn’t say anything.

“Hey, Deaumont!” Warrington’s voice rose above the chattering students and Sarah scowled as he came closer to them. “I expect you two to wear these today.” He threw some crown-shaped badges onto the table in front of Sarah. She picked one up and immediately saw red.

“ _Weasley is our King?”_ she hissed. “What the _fuck_ is this?”

Warrington shrugged unapologetically.

“Just something a few of us came up with last night to spook the competition,” he said, smiling cruelly. He turned to face Fred and sneered, “Your brother’s really gonna help us win today. Give him our regards.”

Sarah held Fred back as he lunged toward Warrington; the other boy just laughed and walked away, whistling.

“I’m not wearing these,” Draco said in disgust, vanishing the badges. “Do any of you know what they’re planning?” he asked the others.

Pansy and Millicent looked distinctly uncomfortable.

“We saw a bunch of them in the common room last night…” Millicent said hesitantly. She heaved a sigh at Draco’s expectant look. “They’ve written a song,” she muttered. “It’s quite offensive actually.”

Fred’s ears turned red.

“I’m going to kill them!” he snarled.

Sarah gently ran her fingers through his hair in a way that she knew calmed him down.

“If you kill them, you’ll end up in Azkaban and that means you won’t be able to spend time with me,” she said calmly. “So, unless you want me to kill _you_ , don’t kill them.”

“Something about that doesn’t make sense,” Theo muttered to the others as Fred pulled Sarah in a long kiss.

“All right, enough you two,” Draco said, pulling them apart. “We have to get to the pitch.”

They waved goodbye to their friends and left the hall together. They bumped in Harry and Ron in the entrance hall and Sarah saw Draco pull Harry to the side and whisper something in his ear. The dark-haired boy glanced quickly at Ron and then the Slytherin table, his expression darkening.

The frosty grass crunched under their feet as they hurried down the sloping lawns toward the stadium. There was no wind at all and the sky was a uniform pearly white, which meant that visibility would be good without the drawback of direct sunlight in the eyes. Harry pointed out these encouraging factors to Ron, who looked slightly ill.

The rest of the Slytherin team were already in the changing rooms by the time that Sarah and Draco entered. Warrington glanced at them and glowered when he realised they weren’t wearing the badges.

“You’re really testing my patience,” he snapped. “You need to support this team.”

“We’re here, aren’t we?” Draco replied. “We’re not wearing your stupid badges or singing your stupid songs.”

Crabbe, who had joined on this year as a Beater alongside Goyle, to Sarah’s great annoyance, scoffed loudly. “Are you sure you’re not sleeping with the Weasel _and_ Scarhead, Malfoy?” he sneered.

  
“At least he has someone to warm his bed,” Sarah snapped. “Unlike _your_ ugly mug.”

The thing about these Slytherins, was that loyalty only went so far. Sure, Crabbe had his popular moments but at the end of the day, people didn’t like him. Even though Sarah and Draco didn’t follow along with the horridness of some of the older Slytherins, they were much more popular than Crabbe.

Everyone laughed at Sarah’s comment, even Warrington, who seemed angry about it. Crabbe flushed pink.

“Okay, shut up,” Warrington finally snapped. “Let’s go.”

They marched out onto the field, brooms over their shoulders, boos and cheers mingling in the still air. Sarah could see the golden badges flashing on most of the Slytherin’s cloaks and felt quite disappointed in her House. Draco stood behind her and she could practically _feel_ his disapproving glare.

The crowd exploded again as the Gryffindor team came onto the pitch. Harry smirked at Sarah and she winked at him playfully.

“Captains shake hands,” ordered the umpire, Madam Hooch, as Angelina and Warrington reached each other. Sarah could tell that Warrington was trying to crush Angelina’s fingers, though she did not wince. “Mount your brooms…”

Madam Hooch placed her whistle in her mouth and blew.

The balls were released and the fourteen players shot upward; out of the corner of her eye, Sarah saw Draco rocket higher than the rest of them, his white-blond hair gleaming in the sunlight.

“And its Johnson, Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I’ve been saying it for years but she still won’t go out with me – “

“JORDAN!” yelled Professor McGonagall.

“Just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest – and she’s ducked Warrington, she’s passed Montague, she’s – ouch – been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe…Deaumont catches the Quaffle, must be difficult being the only girl on the team – and she’s heading up the pitch and – Nice Bludger there from George Weasley, Deaumont barely misses a Bludger to the head – oh, Fred doesn’t look too happy about that – she drops the Quaffle, caught by Katie Bell, Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverse passes to Alicia Spinnet and Spinnet’s away – “

Lee Jordan’s commentary rang through the stadium and Sarah listened hard as she could through the wind whistling in her ears and the din of the crowd, all yelling and booing and singing –

“ – dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger – close call, Alicia – she passes – but it’s intercepted by Deaumont, good catch Sarah – and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what’s that they’re singing?”

And as Lee paused to listen the song rose loud and clear from the sea of green and silver in the Slytherin section of the stands:

_Weasley cannot save a thing,  
He cannot block a single ring,  
That’s why Slytherins all sing:  
Weasley is our King._

_Weasley was born in a bin,  
He always lets the Quaffle in,  
Weasley will make sure we win,  
Weasley is our King._

Sarah growled in anger and shouted, “Angelina!” before passing the Quaffle to her.

“What?”

“Just fucking score!”

“ – and Sarah passes to the Gryffindor chaser!” Lee shouted. “And shoots her own House quite a rude gesture – I always knew I liked that girl. It looks like even the Slytherin players aren’t liking the song that much – Deaumont and Malfoy don’t look too impressed.” Lee was trying to drown out the sound of the singing. “Come on now, Angelina – looks like she’s got the Keeper to beat! – SHE SHOOTS – SHE – aaaah…”

Miles Bletchley, Slytherin’s Keeper, had saved the goal; he threw the Quaffle to Warrington who sped off with it, zigzagging in between Alicia and Katie; the singing from below grew louder and louder as he drew nearer and nearer to Ron.

“ – and it’s Warrington with the Quaffle, Warrington heading for the goal, he’s out of Bludger range with just the Keeper ahead – “

A great swell of song rose from the Slytherin stands below.

“ – so it’s the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper, Weasley, brother of Beaters, Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team – come on, Ron!”

But the scream of delight came from the Slytherin end: Ron had dived widely, his arms wide, and the Quaffle had soared between them, straight through Ron’s central hoop.

“Slytherin score!” same Lee’s voice amid the cheering and booing from the crowds below. “So that’s ten-nil to Slytherin – bad luck, Ron…”

Sarah flew close to Draco during the brief respite.

“You or Harry need to find that fucking Snitch,” she shouted. “And soon!”

He nodded and zoomed off to relay the message to Harry.

“ – and Gryffindor back in possession and it’s Katie Bell tanking up the pitch – “ cried Lee valiantly, though the singing was now so deafening that he could hardly make himself heard above it. “ – and it’s Deaumont again,” bellowed Lee, “who passes to Montague, Montague’s off past Spinnet – nice Bludger from Fred Weasley and Montague drops the Quaffle and Katie Bell – er – drops it too – so that’s Deaumont with the Quaffle, Sarah Deaumont takes the Quaffle and she’s off up the pitch, come on now Gryffindor, block her!”

Sarah ducked beneath arms and Bludgers and shot toward the far goal posts where Ron was hovering, looking ill. She really didn’t want to make him feel any worse but if she threw the game, Warrington would kill her.

“ – and Deaumont’s dodged Alicia again, and she’s heading straight for goal, stop it, Ron!”

“I’m sorry!” shouted Sarah as the Quaffle shot through the left hoop, despite Ron’s effort to catch it. “I know you can do it, Ron!”

Ron let in two more goals. There was an edge of panic in the Gryffindor team now as Slytherin pulled ahead, forty-nil.

“ – and Katie Bell of Gryffindor dodges Deaumont, ducks Montague, nice swerve, Katie, and she throws to Johnson, Angelina Johnson takes the Quaffle, she’s past Warrington, she’s heading for goal, come on now Angelina – GRYFFINDOR SCORE! It’s forty-ten, forty-ten to Slytherin and Deaumont has the Quaffle…”

Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah could see Harry and Draco desperately looking for the Snitch. All of a sudden, they both dived so quickly they were only streaks of colour. Sarah ducked a Bludger and took the Quaffle out of the air as Angelina passed to Katie. She shot down toward the goal but held back on her speed slightly, praying that Draco or Harry would catch the Snitch.

A loud whistle cut through the air and Sarah immediately stopped, holding the Quaffle close to her body as she panted for breath. A loud cry from the crowd made her look down to see Harry sprawled on the grass, Draco landing beside him with a thump. Madam Hooch was shouting at Crabbe off to the side. It looked like he had sent a Bludger Harry’s way even though the game had ended. Sarah landed and went to walk over to them when a hand suddenly gripped her around her neck and pulled her forwards.

“You threw the Quaffle to Johnson!” snarled Warrington. “You were purposely helping them!”

He tightened his grip and Sarah cried out as she felt the bones in her neck move slightly.

“Let – me – go – “ she croaked.

“I should fucking kill you for throwing the game!” he growled. “You’re lucky Snape likes you so much or you’d be off the team!”

Sarah spluttered and tried to draw in breath but couldn’t. Warrington’s angry face was starting to blur above her as he cut off her air supply.

“Fuck – you – “ she gasped, hitting him weakly.

Suddenly, his hand disappeared from around her neck and she dropped to her knees on the grass, holding her throat as she heaved great lungful’s of breath.

“Fred stop! Stop!” someone shouted.

A hand appeared on Sarah’s shoulder and she flinched.

“It’s just me,” came Ron’s voice. He reached down and helped her to her feet.

“Fred!” Draco’s voice joined the fray and Sarah looked up.

Fred had Warrington on the floor and was punching him repeatedly. To Sarah’s complete surprise, Harry and George were also in the middle of a fistfight, but with Crabbe and Goyle.

“ _IMPEDIMENTA_!” yelled Madam Hooch. “What do you think you’re doing? I’ve never seen behaviour like it – back up the castle!”

“He was _choking_ Sarah!” shouted Fred, he was standing now, breathing heavily. Warrington was lying on the ground, groaning, his lip and nose bleeding. “Look at her neck! Look at her _neck_!”

Ron stepped back as Madam Hooch approached. Her yellow eyes narrowed and she spun around.

“Regardless, Mr Weasley, that is no reason to beat up another student!” she snapped. “To your Head of House’s office _now_!”

Fred, Harry, and George all stomped off, shaking with rage. Madam Hooch turned back to Sarah and her eyes softened somewhat. “Miss Deaumont, I recommend heading up to the hospital wing. I’ll deal with Mr Warrington.”

Sarah nodded and allowed Ron to steer her away from the pitch. Draco was standing with the rest of the Gryffindor team, talking in frenzied whispers.

“Why were Harry and George hitting the others?” Sarah asked Ron, her voice croaky.

His expression darkened significantly.

“Crabbe was spouting insults about mum and dad and how he had wanted to add even more lyrics to the song,” Ron said bitterly. “Then he insulted Harry’s mum and Harry snapped. He let go of George and the pair of them jumped at Crabbe and Goyle. I expect if Fred hadn’t been occupied, he would’ve joined.”

Sarah grimaced.

“I’m sorry about the song,” she croaked. “We didn’t know about it until this morning. It’s horrible and untrue.”

“It’s not though,” Ron said miserably. “I missed all the goals. I shouldn’t even be on the team.”

“Ron, don’t be ridiculous,” Sarah said. “You just need more practice and confidence. It was your first match and had a horrible atmosphere on top of that. You’ll get used to it. I’ll practice with you if you want; Harry’s only so helpful, he can’t play Chaser that well.”

“Thanks, Sarah,” Ron sighed. “But I doubt it’ll help.”

“Fuck that, it’ll work,” she said savagely.

They pushed their way into the hospital wing and Sarah called out for Madam Pomfrey.

“Oh dear Merlin!” the nurse exclaimed when she spotted the bruises Sarah could feel forming on her neck.

She winced. “Is it really that bad?” she asked.

“Dear, what happened to cause that?” Madam Pomfrey asked. She directed Sarah to a bed while she bustled around to get some bruise paste.

“Warrington choked her at the end of the game,” Ron said darkly. “He didn’t like that Sarah got pissed by the Slytherins’ actions and threw a Quaffle to Angelina.”

Madam Pomfrey tutted. “Disgusting behaviour,” she muttered as she rubbed paste gently onto Sarah’s neck. “This should help but it will still be tender for a few days. It’s much deeper than it looks.”

“Yeah, I can feel it…” Sarah murmured. “At least he didn’t hit me, I was half expecting him to.”

Ron and Madam Pomfrey looked aghast by her comment.

“What?” she said. “He’s a horrible person and I’m the only girl on the team; insults and threats are all I get during practice.”

“But surely that’s not allowed?” Ron gaped.

“Well, Draco has by back,” Sarah said. “And Snape would be furious if someone deliberately hurt someone else. I’m sure Warrington will be getting a tongue-lashing from Snape soon enough, if not now.”

Madam Pomfrey smiled slightly and stepped back. “Put this on each night before bed,” she said, handing Sarah the tub of paste. “Use it if your neck hurts badly anytime during the day,” she advised.

At that moment, the doors burst open and Draco rushed in. He relaxed significantly when he saw Sarah sitting calmly on a bed.

“Oh, thank Merlin, you’re here,” he panted, hands resting on his legs. “Couldn’t – find – you.”

“I’m perfectly all right now,” Sarah said. She got up and walked over to Draco, Ron following behind him. “What happened after we left?

Draco grabbed her hand and calmed down entirely.

“Well, Angelina shouted at Crabbe alongside Madam Hooch, that was funny,” Draco explained. “McGonagall stormed off after Harry and the twins – she did _not_ look happy –”

“I imagine she wouldn’t be,” Ron muttered.

“ – and then Snape dragged Warrington away by the ear,” Draco continued. “I haven’t seen him that angry in ages. I can’t believe Warrington did that in front of all the teachers and students. He’ll be lucky to keep the Captaincy.”

Sarah rubbed her eyes, suddenly very tired.

“Let’s go back to Gryffindor Tower and see if the boys are back yet,” she suggested, slinging an arm around Draco and Ron.

Harry, Fred and George were back from their meeting with McGonagall. They were sitting in front of the fire opposite Angelina, who looked as though someone had killed her crup. The reason for that soon became obvious.

“ _Banned_?” Sarah gasped in horror. “How – why - ?”

“Umbridge,” Harry muttered darkly.

“No Seeker and no Beaters…” Angelina muttered quietly. “What on earth are we going to do?”

Sarah grimaced and rubbed her neck absentmindedly. The action caught Fred’s attention.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked her, coming to sit next to her. He ran a finger gently across her jaw and frowned at the discoloured bruises. “I didn’t hit him hard enough.”

Sarah huffed a laugh. “You’re lucky you weren’t expelled,” she said. She leant into his side and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Thanks for coming to my rescue.”

“I was so angry when I turned around to find him holding you by the neck,” Fred whispered. No one else was listening, they were all talking quietly amongst themselves. “I didn’t even think. I just pulled him off you and started punching.”

“I’m okay,” Sarah promised. “The bruises will be gone in a few days.”

Fred frowned down at her.

“You shouldn’t even have them in the first place,” he muttered. Sarah rested her forehead against his and kissed his nose.

“Don’t worry about me,” she murmured. “I’m fine now. Let’s just try to enjoy the evening.”

That was unlikely to happen. Harry was devasted by his Quidditch ban. Draco was sitting on his lap and whispering urgently to him, brushing his dark fringe off his forehead as he attempted to console his boyfriend. George was sitting with his head in his hands, Lee Jordan patting his back sympathetically. Angelina soon went to bed, her face drawn tight. She was followed by Alicia and Katie. Sarah decided to call it a night and waved goodnight to everyone, kissed Draco and Harry on the foreheads and then followed Fred and George up to their room.

The three of them sat on Fred’s bed in tense silence. They had drawn the curtains closed and put up a Silencing Charm so they could talk without disrupting the other boys in the room.

“I’m really sorry you both are banned from playing,” Sarah said quietly.

George sighed heavily. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “I don’t even really see the point of staying here for the rest of the year. I mean, do we really need our N.E.W.Ts? We have premises and gold; the Snackboxes are thriving….”

“George, you can’t mean that,” Sarah said in distress. “You can’t just – just _leave_.”

Both of them avoided her eyes. She sat in shock for a moment.

“You’re actually serious,” she said in disbelief. “You want to leave?”

“It probably wouldn’t be until after the Christmas break,” Fred said quietly. “We need to finalise a few more things…”

“But – but – “ Sarah stuttered. “But what about your schoolwork and – and you’re friends?”

“George was right, Sarah,” Fred said, taking her hands in his. “We don’t need N.E.W.Ts to run a joke shop. And as for our friends, well, it’s not like we’re leaving the country. We’ll still see everyone.”

Sarah stared at them sadly. “I’d miss you though, both of you,” she said.

“We’d miss you too, little snake,” George said, smiling at their old nickname for her.

Sarah sighed. “If you’re sure this is what’s best for you, I won’t try to stop you,” she said.

They looked at her in relief.

“Your mother will hate it, though,” she added. “I would love to see her face when she finds out.”

“It won’t be for a few months,” Fred assured. “There’s still heaps to do with the building lease – “

“ – and production and management,” George added. “Employees, etc…”

“Can I work at your store during the summer?” Sarah asked, perking up at the idea. “I’ve never had a job before.”

“Of course you can,” Fred said.

“As long as you actually work and don’t just stare at Fred all day,” George said in a mock stern voice.

Sarah scoffed. “ _Please_ , it’ll be Fred who won’t be able to keep his eyes off _me_.”

The twins burst into laughter and Sarah quickly joined them.

“All right, Georgie, fuck off,” Fred said. “I’m tired.”

“Oh, sure, _tired_ ,” George said, rolling his eyes at them. “Just don’t forget to renew the Silencing Charm; there are some things I do _not_ need to hear.”

“Fuck off!” Sarah said, shoving George off the bed. He landed with a muffled thump and Sarah could hear Lee snickering at him from across the room.

“I’m glad that you’re taking your own lives into your hands,” Sarah told Fred as they lay next to each other under the covers. “I know that you and George will do great things.”

“So will you, Miss Aspiring Healer,” grinned Fred. “I expect constant health warnings and safety measures.”

Sarah smirked. “I’m going to make you have a permanent Floo connection to St Mungo’s when I work there,” she said. “I don’t want to Apparate with your unconscious body when something inevitably blows up in your face.”

“Is that right?” Fred laughed, rolling so that he was leaning above her, resting on his elbows. “I look forward to having you as my personal Healer. Think of all the benefits.”

“Benefits?”

“You know,” smirked Fred, “the soothing ointments, massages, intimate care.”

“I hope you don’t want intimate care from every Healer you encounter,” Sarah said, raising her eyebrow at him.

He smiled broadly.

“Of course not,” he promised. “I already have the one person I want looking after me.”

“Is that so?” Sarah said softly. She reached up and twined her hands around his neck.

Fred smiled again and leant down, gently capturing her lips with his own. Sarah pulled him closer so that his body was resting on top of hers. Fred tilted his head slightly to the side and deepened the kiss, causing Sarah’s breath to hitch slightly. She ran her hand through his hair and he groaned low in his throat.

Fred pulled back slowly, pupils blown wide and lips glistening.

“We should probably stop soon,” he muttered, his eyes locked on Sarah’s lips.

“Do you want to stop?” she asked him, pulling him down for another kiss.

When they pulled apart for breath, he groaned and said, “No, I really don’t. But I don’t want to do anything that you’re not ready for.”

“Fred,” she said softly. His brown eyes looked intensely at her. “I want to do this.”

“You do?” he breathed.

Sarah nodded. “Yes, I do.”

He smiled at her and leant back down, kissing her deeply. She smiled into the kiss and shifted so that Fred’s comforting weight was resting along her body.

They took their time. Fred was extremely considerate and Sarah had to urge him on continuously. He kept checking that she actually wanted it and was okay. Sarah rolled her eyes each time and eventually rolled them over so that Fred was beneath her. After that, he didn’t say much.

They fell asleep curled around each other.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Sarah, Harry and Draco arrived early in the Room of Requirement for the last D.A meeting before the holidays and were very glad they had, because when the lamps burst into light they saw that someone (most likely Dobby) had taken it upon themselves to decorate the place for Christmas. Sarah guessed Dobby had done it because nobody else would have strung a hundred golden baubles from the ceiling, each showing a picture of Harry’s face and bearing the legend HAVE A VERY HARRY CHRISTMAS!

Sarah and Draco were absolutely useless while Harry took down the baubles, his face blushing a dark red the entire time. By the time he had finished, Sarah and Draco had gotten the worst of their laughter under control – until they would look at the blushing teen and burst into uncontrollable giggles again. This was how Luna Lovegood found them when she wandered in through the door.

“Hello,” she said vaguely, looking around at what remained of the decorations. “These are nice, did you put them up?”

“No,” said Harry, “it was Dobby the house-elf.”

“Mistletoe,” said Luna dreamily, pointing at a large clump of white berries placed directly above where Draco and Sarah were lounging. They jumped away from each other immediately. “Good thinking,” said Luna very seriously. “It’s often infested with nargles.”

Angelina, Katie and Alicia arrived and distracted Harry and Draco. Sarah, however, walked over to Luna and sat in front of her.

“What are nargles?” she said curiously, tilting her head slightly.

Luna’s pale eyes brightened and she smiled widely. “No one is genuinely curious about what I say,” she said in her misty voice. “It’s okay, I’ve gotten used to it.”

Sarah frowned slightly. “That’s not very nice of them,” she stated. “I would be more than willing to listen. I love learning new things.”

This led to Luna enthusiastically describing nargles and various other creatures while everyone slowly trickled into the room. Sarah listened in interest and was soon offering her own opinions on the theories Luna told her.

Their conversation was cut short by Harry greeting everyone and saying, “I thought this evening we should just go over the things we’ve done so far, because it’s the last meeting before the holidays and there’s no point starting anything new right before a three-week break – “

“We’re not doing anything new?” said Zacharias Smith, in a disgruntled whisper loud enough to carry through the room. “If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have come…”

“We’re really sorry Harry didn’t tell you, then,” said Fred loudly.

Several people sniggered. Harry’s lips twitched before he managed to contain himself.

“We can practice in pairs,” said Harry. “We’ll start with the Impediment Jinx, just for ten minutes, then we can get out the cushions and try Stunning again.”

“Do you want to be partners?” Sarah asked Luna, who looked delighted.

“Oh, that would be wonderful!” the younger girl exclaimed. “People usually don’t want to pair up with me.”

“It’s their loss,” Sarah said sincerely. “You’re lovely to talk to.”

“Thank you, Sarah,” said Luna earnestly. “It’s nice to have another friend besides Ginny.”

“We’re definitely friends,” Sarah promised.

At the end of the hour, Harry called a halt.

“You’re getting really good,” he said, beaming around at them. “When we get back from the holidays we can start doing some of the big stuff – maybe even Patronuses.”

There was a murmur of excitement. The room began to clear in the usual twos and threes; most people wished Sarah a Merry Christmas as they went. Feeling cheerful, she helped Ron and Hermione stack the pillows away neatly. Harry was cleaning the blackboard so Sarah told him they’d meet him outside.

Sarah and Draco rested against the wall opposite the door and chatted with Luna for a few minutes before Sarah got curious.

“What on earth is taking him so long?” she asked, pushing off the wall.

She stepped through the door and froze in shock. Draco walked into her back and startled.

“Sarah, what the hell - ?”

He cut off in a gasp.

They had walked in to find Cho kissing Harry.

Harry pushed her away and took quick steps backwards. Neither of them had noticed the pair enter.

“What are you doing?” Harry exclaimed angrily. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I like you!” Cho said. “And you seemed to like me last year! I know that whatever you have with Malfoy isn’t going to last – everyone knows that. There’s no way someone like him could ever be with you.”

Draco gasped softly and took a step back.

Harry glowered at the girl.

“You don’t know anything!” he snapped. “I’m dating Draco because I fucking want to! It’s going to last a very long time if I have anything to say about it. I have no idea why you thought I’d want to be with you. I’ve wanted to date Draco for years! We literally made it as obvious as possible we were dating – and very happy!”

Cho’s bottom lip began to tremble.

“You’re lying to yourself, Harry,” she said.

“I’m bloody well not!” cried Harry. “I’m _gay_! I don’t like girls and I certainly don’t like you. And if you ever touch me again I _will_ hex you.”

Cho sniffed and turned on her heel to exit. She stopped dead when she saw Sarah and Draco standing in the doorway, identical expressions of shock on their faces.

“Oh, Merlin, Draco – “ Harry said, eyes wide.

“It’s okay, Harry,” Draco said quickly. “We heard everything.”

Harry sagged in relief.

Cho looked between the two of them and then quickly marched toward the door, pushing past Sarah, tears streaming down her eyes. Despite what the girl had just done, Sarah couldn’t help but feel slightly sorry for her.

Draco had made his way across the Harry and was now snogging his boyfriend quite enthusiastically.

“You’re amazing,” he told Harry. “And you’re mine – I don’t share.”

“Neither do I,” Harry said. “I had no idea she was going to do that. We were just talking about Cedric and she suddenly came onto me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Draco assured. “It was just a bit shocking to walk in and see that.”

“I’m sorry,” whispered Harry.

Draco just smiled and shook his head, drawing Harry in for another kiss.

Sarah took her leave and hurried back to the Gryffindor common room, where she joined Hermione, Ron, Fred and George in front of the fire.

“Where are the other two?” Ron asked, looking around as though they would magically materialise from thin air. Considering they were wizards, it wasn’t completely impossible.

“Enjoying each other’s company,” Sarah replied with a smirk. Ron grimaced and turned away.

“Don’t tell me anything else,” he begged.

Their laughter echoed around the common room.

***

Sarah woke up to Hermione shaking her urgently.

“What’s – what’s going on?” she muttered, rubbing her eyes.

“You need to go downstairs down,” Hermione whispered, her brown eyes wide and worried. Immediately, Sarah sat up straighter and began pulling on the dressing gown Hermione handed her.

“Why?” she asked, hopping to put socks on.

Hermione shook her head. “I don’t know, Draco just a message up here. Hurry.”

Sarah raced down the stairs to find Draco pacing in the common room.

“Draco!” she said. “What’s wrong?”

Draco looked up, relief painting his features.

“We have to go,” he said, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward the exit. “Harry had a nightmare but we think it was real. It was about Mr Weasley. Professor McGonagall just left with him and Ron and told me to get you. We’re meeting them in Dumbledore’s office.”

Draco said all of this very fast as they half-ran, half-walked through the corridors down to the Headmaster’s office. As they reached the entrance, the gargoyle leapt aside to reveal a harried Professor McGonagall.

“Good, you’re both here,” she said tensely. “I’m going to get the others. You’ll all be leaving tonight. Remus is expecting you. Your trunks will be sent along soon.”

Without waiting for a response, she disappeared down the corridor.

Sarah and Draco hurried onto the revolving staircase and knocked on the oak door. It opened of its own accord and they entered to find Harry, Ron and Dumbledore waiting for them. Harry was pale and shaking, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. His green eyes were wild, darting all around the room in fear. Draco immediately went to his side and gripped his shoulders, whispering under his breath to the other boy.

“What happened?” Sarah asked Ron and Dumbledore.

“Arthur has been attacked,” Dumbledore responded gravely. “Once the others get here, you will all be leaving.”

Sarah grabbed Ron’s hand in a tight grip; the boy was shivering and staring blankly across the room.

“Your dad will be okay,” she whispered to him. Ron nodded vaguely.

“It was terrible, Sarah,” he murmured. His blue eyes flicked toward Harry, who was now shaking in Draco’s embrace. “He suddenly started convulsing and screaming. We couldn’t wake him up for ages.” Ron paused and looked at her, his eyes clouded. “He said he was the snake that attacked Dad.”

Sarah looked at the dark-haired boy, her mind whirring. Somehow, Harry’s dreams were reflecting real-life events. Or maybe, they were projecting them. Maybe Harry wasn’t just seeming them but actually _experiencing_ them; the feelings, the taste, the smell…But Sarah hadn’t ever heard of anyone experiencing outside events…Or, someone else’s experiences? But the only like that was possession…

Sarah’s thoughts were cut off by the arrival of the other Weasley’s. Fred, George and Ginny were ushered inside by Professor McGonagall, all three of them looking dishevelled and shocked, still in their night things.

“Harry – what’s going on?” asked Ginny, who looked frightened. “Professor McGonagall says you saw Dad hurt – “

“Your father has been injured in the course of his work for the Order of the Phoenix,” said Dumbledore before Harry could speak. “He has been taken to St Mungo’s for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am sending you back to Sirius’ house, which is much more convenient for the hospital than the Burrow. You will meet your mother there.”

“How’re we going?” asked Fred, looking shaken. “Floor powder?”

“No,” said Dumbledore, “Floor powder is not safe at the moment, the Network is being watched. You will be taking a Portkey.” He indicated the old kettle lying innocently on his desk. “We are just waiting for Phineas Nigellus to report back…I wish to be sure that the coast is clear before sending you – “

There was a flash of flame in the very middle of the office, leaving behind a single golden feather that floated gently to the floor.

“It is Fawkes’s warning,” said Dumbledore, catching the feather as it fell. “She must know you’re out of your beds…Minerva, go and head her off – tell her any story – “

Professor McGonagall was gone in a swish of tartan.

“He says he’ll be delighted,” said a bored voice behind Dumbledore; the wizard called Phineas Nigellus had reappeared in front of his Slytherin banner. “My great-great-grandson has always had add taste in houseguests…that _half-breed_ in particular…”

“Come here, then,” Dumbledore said to them. Sarah discreetly flipped Phineas Nigellus the finger before moving to stand between Fred and Ron.

“You have all used a Portkey before?” asked Dumbledore, and they nodded, each reaching out to touch some part of the blackened kettle. “Good. On the count of three then…one… two… _three_.”

Sarah felt a powerful jerk behind her navel, the ground vanished from beneath her feet, her hand was flued to the kettle; she was banging into the others as they all sped forward in a swirl of colours and a rush of wind, the kettle pulling them onward and then – “

Her feet hit the ground so hard that her knees buckled, the kettle clattered to the ground and somewhere close at hand a voice said, “Back again, the blood traitor brats, is it true their father’s dying…?”

“OUT!” roared a second voice.

Sarah blinked away the residual dizziness and looked around; they had arrived in the basement kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Sirius and Remus were waiting for them, looking anxious.

“What’s going on?” Remus asked as Sirius stretched out a hand to help Ginny to her feet. “Phineas Nigellus said Arthur’s been badly injured – “

“Ask Harry,” said Fred.

“Yeah, I want to hear this for myself,” said George.

They all turned to look at Harry, who was looking distinctly ill. Draco hadn’t relinquished his grip on his boyfriend and held tighter still as Harry began to explain his vision. Apparently, Mr Weasley had been dozing under an Invisibility Cloak in front of a nondescript door when a snake had appeared and attacked him, leaving him to bleed out. That was when Harry was awoken by the others and Professor McGonagall alerted.

Sarah saw Ron give Harry a fleeting look when Harry said he had seen the snack lunge, instead of explaining that he saw it through the snake’s eyes. Sarah could understand why he didn’t feel like sharing that piece of information at the moment.

“Is Mum here?” said Fred, turning to Sirius and Remus.

“She probably doesn’t even know what’s happened yet,” said Sirius. “The important thing was to get you away before Umbridge could interfere. I expect Dumbledore’s letting Molly know now.”

“We’ve got to go to St Mungo’s,” said Ginny urgently. She looked around at her brothers; they were of course still in their pyjamas. “Sirius, can you lend us cloaks or anything – ?”

“We can’t go to St Mungo’s,” Sarah said suddenly.

“’Course we can,” said Fred, with a mulish expression, “he’s our dad!”

“I know that, Fred,” said Sarah calmly. “But how are we going to explain that we knew he was injured when they haven’t even been able to tell your mother yet? It’s going to throw horrible suspicion on Harry. The Ministry in particular would be extremely interested. We can’t.”

For a moment, Fred and George looked as though they could not care less what the Ministry thought. Ron was still white-faced and silent.

“Listen,” said Sirius gently, “your dad’s been hurt while on duty for the Order and the circumstances are fishy enough without his children knowing about it seconds after it happened, you could seriously damage the Order’s – “

“We don’t care about the dumb Order!” shouted Fred.

“It’s our dad dying we’re talking about!” yelled George.

“Your father knew what he was getting into, and he won’t thank you for messing things up for the Order!” said Sirius angrily in his turn. Remus placed a hand on the other man’s arm but Sirius shrugged him off. “This is how it is – this is why you’re not in the Order – you don’t understand – there are things worth dying for!”

“Easy for you to say, stuck here!” bellowed Fred. “I don’t see you risking your neck!”

The little colour remaining in Sirius’ face drained from it. He looked for a moment as though he would quite like to hit Fred, but when he spoke, it was in a voice of determined calm. Remus’ steady hand around his wrist may have helped. “I know it’s hard, but we’ve all got to act as though we don’t know anything yet. We’ve got to stay put, as least until we hear from your mother, all right?”

Fred and George still looked mutinous. Ginny, however, took a few steps over to the nearest chair and sank into it. Harry looked at Ron, who made a funny movement somewhere between a nod and a shrug, and they sat down too, Draco close to Harry. The twins glared at Sirius for another minute until Sarah stepped in.

“Guys, come on,” she said in a no-nonsense tone. “Sit down.”

She tugged on their arms until they eventually gave in and sank into seats beside Ginny. Sarah perched on the arm of Fred’s chair and held one of his hands in hers. Her other one softly brushed through his hair.

“That’s right,” said Remus encouragingly, “come on, let’s all…let’s all have a drink while we’re waiting. _Accio Butterbeer!”_

He raised his wand as he spoke and nine bottles came flying toward them out of the pantry, skidded along the table, and stopped neatly in front of them. They all drank, and for a while, the only sounds were those of the crackling of the kitchen fire and the soft thud of their bottles on the table.

Sarah tried to move to her own seat at one point, but Fred gripped her hand tighter, turning pleading brown eyes on her. Instead, she settled in his lap and curled one arm around his shoulders, leaning sideways against his chest. His arms came to encircle her tightly.

Then a burst of fire in mid-air illuminated the table brightly and as they gave cries of shock, a scroll of parchment fell with a thud onto the table, accompanied by a single golden phoenix tail feather.

“Fawkes!” said Sirius at once, snatching up the parchment. “That’s not Dumbledore’s writing – it must be a message from your mother – here – “

He thrust the letter into George’s hand, who ripped it open and read aloud, “ _Dad is still alive. I am setting out for St Mungo’s now. Stay where you are. I will send news as soon as I can. Mum.”_

George looked around the table.

“Still alive…” he said slowly. “But that makes it sound…”

He did not need to finish the sentence. It sounded to Sarah too as though Mr Weasley was hovering somewhere between life and death. Still exceptionally pale, Ron stared at the back of his mother’s letter as though it might speak words of comfort to him. Fred pulled the parchment out of George’s hands and read it for himself, tilting it so that Sarah could see it.

The one night Sarah could remember where she had sat as long as they did was the night of the day she found her mother dead in her room. Sarah hadn’t slept at all, and instead had sat in front of the window in her room at Malfoy Manor, staring unseeing out across the grounds. Draco had joined her and provided a comforting warmth in the oblivion that threatened to submerge Sarah. Tonight felt similar. Remus suggested at one point that they all go to bed, but without any real conviction, and the Weasleys’ looks of disgust were answer enough. Instead, he and Draco went into the upstairs rooms and collected warm blankets for everyone. Fred soon fell into a doze, his head resting against Sarah’s as she remained curled against his chest. Ginny had moved closer to George and the siblings were leaning against one another, sharing a blanket. Remus was whispering quietly to Ron, who nodded every so often. Harry, Draco and Sirius were sitting in silence, most likely feeling the same as Sarah, as though they were intruders upon the family grief…waiting…waiting.

And then, at ten past five in the morning by Ron’s watch, the kitchen door swung open and Mrs Weasley entered the kitchen. She was extremely pale, but when they all turned to look at her, she gave them a wan smile.

“He’s going to be all right,” she said, her voice weak with tiredness. “He’s sleeping. We can all go and see him later. Bill’s sitting with him now, he’s going to take the morning off work.”

Fred sagged in his chair and buried his face in Sarah’s neck, his breath ragged in his chest. George and Ginny got up, walked swiftly over to their mother, and hugged her. Ron gave a shaky laugh and down the rest of his butterbeer in one. 

“Breakfast!” said Sirius loudly and joyfully, jumping to his feet. “Where’s that accursed house-elf? Kreacher! KREACHER!”

But Kreacher did not answer the summons.

“Oh, forget it then,” muttered Sirius. “Breakfast – Bacon and eggs, I think, and some tea, and toast – “

Draco, Harry and Remus got up to help and even though Sarah tried, Fred refused to let her go.

“I need you right now,” he whispered to her and she nodded, tightening her grip around her boyfriend. Mrs Weasley pulled Harry into a hug when he went to get the plates from the cabinet.

“I don’t know what would have happened if it hadn’t been for you, Harry,” she said in a muffled voice. “They might not have found Arthur for hours, and then it would have been too late, but thanks to you he’s alive and Dumbledore’s been able to think up a good cover story for Arthur being where he was, you’ve no idea the trouble he would have been in otherwise, look at poor Sturgis…”

Mrs Weasley released him and turned to Sirius, thanking him and Remus for looking after her children all night.

“Oh, Sirius, I’m so grateful…They think he’ll be there a little while and it would be wonderful to be nearer…Of course, that might mean we’re here for Christmas…”

“The more the merrier! It was just going to be Moony, Draco, Sarah and I,” said Sirius with such obvious sincerity that Mrs Weasley beamed at him, threw on an apron, and began to help with breakfast.

At one point, Harry pulled Sirius and Remus off to the side to talk to them. When they returned, they all looked slightly uneasy but none of them said anything.

After breakfast was over, the adults sent everyone up to their rooms to get some sleep. Sarah held Fred tightly in her arms as he slept and eventually fell into a fitful sleep.

Their trunks arrived from Hogwarts while they were eating lunch, so that they could dress as Muggles for their trip to St Mungo’s. Everyone except Harry was riotously happy and talkative as they changed out of their robes into jeans and sweatshirts, and they greeted Tonks and Mad-Eye, who had turned up to escort them across London.

“You two need to be Glamoured,” Moody said gruffly to Sarah and Draco. “You’re too recognisable and your fathers have got people out everyone looking for you.”

Sarah quickly went with Tonks to change her appearance into something less obvious while Draco sulkily agreed to let Moody change his hair and eye colour, as well as altering his face shape.

“I look ridiculous,” he grumbled once the Auror has finished. He now had tawny-coloured hair very similar to Remus’ and dark brown eyes. His face was less narrow and squarer. Sarah wouldn’t have recognised him if she had seen him in a crowd. In turn, Sarah had changed her hair to be long, curly and blond. Her eyes she kept the same, as they were already not her original brown. When they were ready, their group waved goodbye to Remus and Sirius and walked to the underground tube entrance.

The streets were bustling with Christmas shoppers and Fred gripped Sarah’s hand tightly to make sure they didn’t get separated. The followed Moody as he limped his way through the crowd, Harry slightly in front of him. Sarah knew that Moody’s magical eye was rolling in every direction keeping lookout for anything suspicious.

They arrived outside a large, old-fashioned, red brick department store called Purge and Dowse Ltd. The place had a shabby, miserable air; the window displays consisted of a few chipped dummies with their wigs askew, standing at random and modelling fashions at least ten years out of date. Large signs on all the dusty doors read CLOSED FOR REFURBISHMENT.

Sarah had been here before when she was younger and Draco had gotten a bad case of the Flu. He had had to spend two weeks in the hospital and Narcissa or her mother would bring her every day to visit him.

“Darling, do you remember those _wonderful_ robes they put you in last time you were here?” Sarah asked Draco, sidling up to his side while still keeping her grip around Fred’s hand.

Draco grimaced at the memory. “They barely covered my arse, love. It was horrible and traumatising, especially for an eight-year-old.”

“Shouldn’t have licked that pole in the playground then,” Sarah said, smirking.

“I didn’t lick the bloody pole!” hissed Draco as Harry gave a weak laugh beside his boyfriend.

“Shut up, you two,” Moody grunted. “Hurry through now.”

Tonks, Ginny, Ron and George had already disappeared through the glass. Sarah tugged Fred with her and together they stepped through what felt like a sheet of cool water, emerging quite warm and dry on the other side.

They had arrived in the crowded reception area where rows of witches and wizards sat upon rickety wooden chairs, some looking perfectly normal and perusing out-of-date copies of _Witch Weekly_ , others sporting gruesome disfigurements such as elephant trunks or extra hands sticking out of their chests. The room was scarcely less quiet than the street outside, for many of the patients were making very particular noises. A sweaty-faced witch in the centre of the front row, who was fanning herself vigorously with a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ , kept letting off a high-pitched whistle as steam came pouring out of her mouth, and a grubby-looking warlock in the corner clanged like a bell every time he moved, and with each clang his head vibrated horrible, so that he had to seize himself by the ears and hold it steady.

Witches and wizards in lime-green robes were walking up and down the rows, asking questions and making notes on clipboards like Umbridge’s. The Healer’s emblem was embroidered on their chests: a wand and bone, crossed.

They followed Mrs Weasley through the double doors at the back and along the narrow corridor after she had gotten Mr Weasley’s room allocation. It was lit by crystal bubbles full of candles that floated up on the ceiling, looking like giant soapsuds. More witches and wizards in lime-green robes walked in and out of the doors as they passed. They climbed a flight of stairs and entered the “Creature-Induced Injuries” corridor, where the second door on the right bore the words “DANGEROUS” DAI LLEWELLYN WARD: SERIOUS BITES. Underneath this was a card in a brass holder on which had been handwritten _Healer-in-Charge: Hippocrates Smethwyck, Trainee Healer: Augustus Pye._

“We’ll wait outside, Molly,” Tonks said. “Arthur won’t want too many visitors at once…It ought to be just the family first.”

Mad-Eye growled his approval of this idea and set himself with his back against a corridor wall, his magical eye pinning in all directions. Harry, Draco and Sarah drew back too, but Mrs Weasley reached out a hand and pushed them all through the door, saying, “Don’t be silly, dears, Arthur wants to see you…”

The ward was small and rather dingy as the only window was narrow and set high in the wall facing the door. Most of the light came from more shining crystal bubbles clustered in the middle of the ceiling. The walls were of panelled oak and there was a portrait of a rather vicious looking wizard on the wall. There were only three patients. Mr Weasley was occupying the bed at the far end of the ward beside the tiny window. Sarah was pleased and relieved to see that he was propped up on several pillows and reading the _Daily Prophet_ by the solitary ray of sunlight falling onto his bed. He looked around as they walked toward him, and seeing whom it was, beamed.

“Hello!” he called, throwing the _Prophet_ aside. “Bill just left, Molly, had to get back to work, but he says he’ll drop in on you later…”

“How are you, Arthur?” asked Mrs Weasley, bending down to kiss his cheek and looking anxiously into his face. “You’re still looking a bit peaky…”

“I feel absolutely fine,” said Mr Weasley brightly, holding out his good arm and giving Ginny a hug. “If they could only take the bandages off, I’d be fit to go home.”

“Why can’t they take them off, Dad?” asked Fred.

“Well, I start bleeding like mad every time they try,” said Mr Weasley cheerfully, reaching across for his wand, which lay at his bedside, to summon them all chairs to sit on. “It seems there was some rather unusual kind of poison in that snake’s fangs that keeps the wounds open…They’re sure they’ll find the antidote, though, they say they’ve had much worse cases than mine, and in the meantime I just have to keep taking a Blood Replenishing Potion every hour. But that fellow over there,” he said, dropping his voice and nodding toward the bed opposite in which a man lay looking green and sickly and staring at the ceiling. “Bitten by a _werewolf_ , poor chap. No cure at all. I said to him that I knew a werewolf personally, very nice man, who finds the condition quite easy to manage…”

“What did he say?” asked George.

“Said he’d give me another bite if I didn’t shut up,” said Mr Weasley sadly.

Sarah zoned out slightly as the twins began questioning Mr Weasley about what he was doing when he was attacked. She looked over again at the man who had been bitten by a werewolf and absentmindedly rubbed the left side of her neck, where the top of the scar she had gotten in her third year sat. Sometimes, she forgot she had it but every so often near the full moon, some of her senses would seem to improve. Nothing drastic, but occasionally she found that her hearing or sense of smell was more enhanced. She was just fortunate that Remus hadn’t accidently bitten her and merely swiped her with his claws. She knew he still felt guilty about the incident, it was evident whenever he caught sight of the scar as it peeked above her collar.

“That’s enough,” Mrs Weasley said suddenly, breaking Sarah out of her reverie. “Mad-Eye and Tonks are outside, Arthur, they want to come and see you. And you lot can come got wait outside,” she added to her children, Harry, Draco and Sarah. “You can come and say goodbye afterward. Go on…”

They trooped back into the corridor. Mad-eye and Tonks when in and closed the door of the ward behind them. Fred raised his eyebrows.

“Fine,” he said coolly, rummaging in his pocket, “be like that. Don’t tell us anything.”

“Looking for these?” said George, holding out what looked like a tangle of flesh-coloured string.

“You read my mind,” said Fred, grinning. “Let’s see if St Mungo’s puts Imperturbable Charms on its ward doors, shall we?”

He and George disentangled the string and separated seven Extendable Ears from each other. Fred and George handed them around.

“Okay, go!” Fred whispered after everyone had inserted one end of the string into their ears.

The flesh-coloured strings wriggled like long skinny worms, then snaked under the door. For a few seconds Sarah could hear nothing, then she heard Tonks whispering as clearly as though she were standing right beside her.

“…they searched the whole area but they couldn’t find the snake anywhere, it just seems to have vanished after it attacked you, Arthur…but You-Know-Who can’t have expected a snake to get it, can he?”

“I reckon he sent it as a lookout,” growled Moody, “’cause he’s not had any luck so far, has he? No, I reckon he’s trying to get a clearer picture of what he’s facing and if Arthur hadn’t been there the beast would’ve had much more time to look around. So Potter says he saw it all happen?”

“Yes,” said Mrs Weasley. She sounded rather uneasy. “you know, Dumbledore seems almost to have been waiting for Harry to see something like this…”

“Yeah, well,” said Moody, “there’s something funny about the Potter kid, we all know that.”

“Dumbledore seemed worried about Harry when I spoke to him this morning,” whispered Mrs Weasley.

“’Course he’s worried,” growled Moody. “The boy’s seeing thinks from inside You-Know-Who’s snake…Obviously, Potter doesn’t realise what that means, but if You-Know-Who’s possessing him – “

Harry suddenly pulled the Extendable Ear out of his own beside Sarah. He was pale and shaking again and he looked frightfully at the others. They were all staring at him, the strings still trailing from their ears.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Harry refused to look or speak to any of them the entire trip back to Grimmauld Place. Mrs Weasley kept asking is he was all right but he just nodded his head silently. As soon as they walked through the front door, he raced passed them all, disappearing upstairs.

“Oh no, he fucking doesn’t,” Sarah said savagely, going to stomp after him.

“What happened?” Sirius asked as the adults led Remus to the kitchen to update him.

“Harry overheard something and now thinks he’s bloody possessed,” Sarah growled, shaking off Ron’s hand when he tried to stop her from walking to the stairs. She peered over the bannister at Sirius and added, “He’s probably sitting somewhere thinking he’s a danger to everyone. I’m going to go smack some sense into him. If we’re not down by dinner, meet us in Draco’s room.”

Sarah searched the entire house until she stood in front of the locked attic door, shaking the doorknob viciously.

“I know you’re in there, Harry,” she said. “I will blow this door to pieces if you don’t open it right this instant.”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Harry said, pulling open the door.

“Too fucking bad,” snapped Sarah. She marched into the room and Harry slammed the door behind her, grumbling under his breath. “So, this is where you’ve been hiding?” she said, observing Buckbeak the hippogriff and the half-eaten rats on the floor. “Thanks for that, by the way, do you know how _huge_ this house is? It’s taken me hours to find you.”

“I didn’t want to be found,” Harry said mulishly. He sat down against the wall and crossed his arms, not looking in Sarah’s direction.

“Well, that’s obvious considering you’ve suddenly decided to be an animal feeder.”

She turned toward Buckbeak and bowed, holding eye contact with the hippogriff until he bent his head at her. “Hello, handsome. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.” She absentmindedly petted Buckbeak’s head as she stared down at the miserable boy.

“I know what you’re doing,” she remarked.

“What am I doing?” Harry asked without looking at her.

She moved closer to him and kicked him gently in the foot.

“You’re hiding from everyone because you think you’re a danger to us,” she said evenly. “I’m guessing that before you came up here you began to panic pack, thinking that the best thing to do would be to run away?”

Harry glanced up at her in shock. “How - ?”

“You’re predictable, Harry, and I know you,” she shrugged. “Also, Draco found your bag and nearly lost his shit.”

Harry cringed slightly.

“Oh, yeah,” Sarah continued, a smile tugging at her lips, “You’ll be dealing with _him_ later.”

She sat down beside Harry and bumped his shoulder with hers.

“Talk to me, Harry,” she said gently. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Harry drew his knees up to his chest as his head sagged.

“What if Moody is right and Voldemort’s possessing me?” whispered Harry in a distraught voice. “I’m what he’s after, I must be. Why else would the Order be guarding me all the time? He made me attack Mr Weasley somehow. I could hurt someone else – I have to leave before someone gets injured because of me – and what if I give away our location? Voldemort would know where we are – where Sirius and you and Draco are – “

“Harry, stop,” Sarah said, interrupting his spiral. “You’re not the weapon Voldemort’s after.”

“How do you know that?” Harry asked harshly. “Why else would I be able to do Voldemort’s bidding?”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” she noted. “You’re not doing Voldemort’s bidding – you’re seeing what _he’s_ doing.”

“So, I am seeing into his head. He is possessing me.”

“If you’d just stop and listen for a minute I’ll tell you what I think,” Sarah said, raising her eyebrow and waiting until Harry nodded and remained quiet. “I don’t think Voldemort is possessing you. But I _do_ think you’re seeing into his mind. No, shut up, don’t freak out. I think that you and Voldemort have a connection, one that was strengthened when he used your blood to return. Now, instead of your scar just prickling when he’s nearby, you can sometimes see the things he’s thinking or dreaming about.”

Harry was listening intently to her but suddenly said, “And feel things? Like when we were in Umbridge’s office and my scar hurt. I felt happy for some reason, like something was going to plan.”

Sarah nodded. “Exactly. I also think the dreams you’ve been having about that corridor and door aren’t yours, but his because _he_ is obsessing about it. This leads me to my next point: you are not the weapon he’s after.” Harry frowned but let her keep talking. “What he wants is obviously somewhere in the Ministry and the Order is guarding it. That’s what Mr Weasley was doing and Sturgis Podmore, remember? The guy who got arrested for trying to get into a locked door in a restricted area of the Ministry? I think the Order is protecting either the entrance to the object or the object itself.”

“That doesn’t help with the issue of seeing into Voldemort’s mind,” Harry stated. “Even if I’m not the weapon…”

“Which you’re not.”

“ – I could still be giving Voldemort information,” he finished.

Sarah frowned. “I suppose you could,” she admitted. “But there is a way to stop that.”

“There is?” Harry said eagerly.

Sarah nodded. “It’s called Occlumency. It’s a type of Mind Magic: Occlumency to defend the mind, Legilimency to attack it. Narcissa used to teach Draco and me some simple techniques when we were younger to help us sleep.”

“Can I learn it?” Harry asked.

“Probably,” Sarah said. “But it’s very, _very_ difficult. And you’d need a talented Legilimens to practice with.”

“What is it?”

“Well, you’re making a defense or a shield against someone trying to enter your mind,” Sarah explained. “Theoretically, if you learnt how to do it, you might be able to block Voldemort from your mind.”

“So he couldn’t get me to do things or discover secret information?” Harry said.

“That, and it would also stop him from being able to send _you_ things, true or false,” Sarah replied. “The biggest worry I have it that Voldemort discovers your connection and uses it against you. He might already have after you witnessed him attack Mr Weasley. Someone would definitely notice the presence of someone else in their head.”

Harry frowned.

“Where would we find a Legilimens to help me?” Harry asked. “I don’t want just anybody trying to read my mind.”

“It’s not really mind-reading…” Sarah muttered but Harry shot her an exasperated look. “I think Draco and I could try learning it?” she suggested. “We know the basics for Occlumency so we should be able to help you and we can study it as we go.”

“Would you?” Harry said hopefully.

“Of course,” Sarah said sincerely. “Harry, Draco and I would do anything to help you. We know you’d do the same for us.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching Buckbeak excitedly throw rat corpses into the air before catching them in his beak. Harry suddenly sighed.

“I’ve been stupid, haven’t I?” he said. “Hiding up here from everyone…”

“Oh, definitely,” Sarah agreed, smiling when he pushed her gently. “Especially considering that you have someone who you could’ve talked to about being possessed by Voldemort. Might have saved you from your boyfriend’s wrath. I’m actually amazed he’s restrained himself and hasn’t stormed up here already.”

Harry cringed again.

“No one could look at me, though,” he said grumpily. “They were all frightened by me.”

“Harry, you left before anyone got the opportunity!” Sarah said in exasperation. “You didn’t look at anyone of us the entire trip back. How on earth were we meant to reassure you that we _weren’t_ afraid of you, if you barely even spared us a glance?”

Harry shrugged and sighed, hugging his knees closer to his chest.

“I’ll go down soon,” he muttered.

“Damn right, you will,” Sarah grumbled, making herself comfortable again. “It’s bloody freezing up here.”

“You don’t have to stay,” Harry pointed out.

“Don’t be a fucking idiot,” she snapped. She looked out across the attic and muttered to herself, “’ _Don’t have to stay_ ’ – honestly – self-destructive idiot…”

They stayed sitting in silence for another hour before Harry uncurled himself and stood up. He reached down a hand to help Sarah to her feet and said, “We might as well go down now before Draco breaks down the door and kills me.”

Sarah laughed. “He’d never kill you, he likes you too much,” she stated. “He would, however, make you sleep alone for a few months until you came begging for his forgiveness.”

“Wouldn’t that impact him as well?” Harry asked curiously as they began to make their way downstairs.

“He’s stubborn enough to deal with it if it means teaching you a lesson,” Sarah smirked.

Sarah pushed into Draco and Harry’s shared room to find Ron, Ginny and Draco sitting on the bed, the latter with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed.

“Have fun,” sang Sarah softly to Harry before she hurried to get the best spot on the pillows.

Harry grimaced and turned to the others.

“Er – “ he started pathetically but Draco interrupted him.

“What the _fuck_ were you thinking?” he burst out angrily. “Blocking us out – hiding away – _packing a bag_?” He was slowly turning pinker in the face and a small part of Sarah wished to have some popcorn to snack on. “Were you just planning on _leaving_? Without telling anyone? Your friends? Your godfather? You _boyfriend_? Or are we just not important to you?”

“No, no!” said Harry quickly as Draco caught his breath. “I was going to leave to keep you _safe_. If Voldemort really way possessing me then he would’ve found you all. He could’ve have sent your father after you, Draco! Or Sarah’s after her! Do you think I could’ve lived with that?”

“It’s not your fucking decision, Harry,” hissed Draco. “You can’t just decide you’re going to disappear when you’re not even _sure_ if you’re being possessed!”

“Well, it wasn’t worth the risk!” Harry cried. “How I was I supposed to know I wasn’t being possessed?”

“You could have talked to me for one,” Ginny voiced. She was leaning casually against the bed post. “I’m the only person you know who’s been possessed by Voldemort and you didn’t think to ask me?”

“I forgot,” Harry muttered.

“Lucky you,” said Ginny coolly.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, and he sounded sincere. “So…Sarah’s always shouted at me about this but…do you think I was being possessed?”

“Well, can you remember everything you’ve been doing?” Ginny asked. “Are there big blank periods where you don’t know what you’ve been up to?”

“No,” Harry said after a moment.

“Then You-Know-Who hasn’t ever possessed you,” said Ginny simply.

“Told you,” Sarah said. “Easy. You should’ve talked to us first before freaking out.”

Harry had the good grace to look sheepish.

“I’m sorry,” he said again to everyone. “I shouldn’t have overreacted.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Draco sniffed. “You’re sleeping in your own room tonight. I’m still angry.”

Harry went to argue but quickly thought better of it.

“Well, now that that’s all over, I’m starving,” Sarah announced, jumping off the bed and grabbing Harry’s arm. “Come on, darling, we’re getting food. You’re looking a little peaky.”

***

The Christmas spirit was building within Grimmauld Place. Hermione arrived the day term ended and was greeted with a warm welcome. Sirius and Remus were delighted to have people to share the holiday with, considering that the previous year it had fallen on a full moon and everyone as at Hogwarts for the Yule Ball. Sirius and Remus’ delight at having the house full again was incredibly infectious. Despite the shadow of Mr Weasley’s injury hanging over them, his daily updates and improving condition helped boost everyone’s mood.

Sirius had taken to walking through the halls, piles of tinsel in his hands, singing “God Rest Ye Merry, Hippogriffs” at the top of his voice. Walburga Black woke up on more than one occasion and it took the combined efforts of Sarah, Remus and Draco to drag Sirius away from her portrait so he wouldn’t sing obnoxiously in her face. Draco always had to spend a few minutes calming down the old woman with polite words and fake smiles.

The house was finally starting to look like a lived-in home. Decorations covered every wall and bannister, shoes and jumpers were spread throughout the various rooms, and the sound of footsteps or laughter floated throughout the hallways. Sarah saw that this was having a very positive effect on Sirius. Despite Remus’ best efforts, Sirius still sometimes fell into a depressed state, the impact of his years at Azkaban revealing themselves. Now, however, he was smiling more and it was reaching his grey eyes, which would light up brightly in joy or humour. Harry, too, seemed to be greatly enjoying himself. After he had gotten over his worry of being possessed, he threw himself into the festive cheer. More often than not, he and Sirius could be seen racing up and down the halls as they pelted each other with various Christmas heirlooms.

Sirius had taken Sarah aside one afternoon to ask about her progress in her Animagus transformation. She gleefully told him that she had gathered all the ingredients and the potion was now stewing as it had to for a month. It would be ready for her to drink when she returned to Hogwarts for the new year.

“The hardest bloody thing was waiting for that electrical storm,” she had complained to him. “I have no clue how you did that.”

The excitement of soon being able to discover her Animagus form filled Sarah up so much that people began asking if she had been taking a Mood Improving Potion. They (Fred or George) usually received a punch to the arm in return.

On Christmas Eve, they all gathered in the downstairs sitting room. Sirius had decorated a gigantic Christmas tree with live fairies and it currently sat blocking the Black family tree tapestry. The chandeliers gleamed with garlands of holly and gold and silver streamers, and magical snow glittered in heaps over the repaired carpet. Sarah had demanded that they all participate in a tradition that her and Draco’s families had upheld since they were born.

“All you’re doing is opening one present early, Ronald, it’s not like you’re going to miss out on the others,” Sarah said in exasperation after the redhead had complained that he wanted to open _all_ his presents early. “Besides, the point of the evening isn’t the gifts,” she continued. “It’s the opportunity to spend some quality time as a family before the madness of tomorrow.”

“The Manor always hosted an extravagant Christmas party on the twenty-fifth,” Draco explained, sorting through the gifts under the tree to find one for each person. “So we always did our celebrations the night before.”

Once everyone had a gift and a steaming cup of hot chocolate in front of them, they took turns opening their present. Sarah’s had been a book on Healing from Sirius and Remus. She threw her arms around them and thanked them until Draco dragged her back to her seat on the floor.

Everyone went to bed that night full of hot chocolate and cakes, tired from all the excitement but happy that they were with family. Fred crawled into Sarah’s bed behind her and they moved together, seeking out each other’s pleasure before they both crested and relaxed in blissfulness. Sarah had fallen asleep with a smile on her face, feeling as though the family she had lost years ago had finally been reformed.

Christmas morning was not as joyous as the evening before.

Percy had sent back his hand-knitted jumper and Mrs Weasley was sobbing into Remus’ arms in the kitchen. Fred and George made a valiant effort to comfort her but Sarah didn’t think that calling her third oldest son “a humongous pile of rate droppings” was reassuring. They had quickly left the kitchen to warn the others.

After a safe amount of time, they all descended again to find Mrs Weasley alone in the kitchen. She was standing at the stove and sounded as though she had a bad head cold when she wished them a Merry Christmas. Hermione had brought down a patchwork quilt for Kreacher to put in his bedroom, which was actually a small cupboard under the boiler in the kitchen. Draco had half-heartedly tried to explain to Hermione why Kreacher wouldn’t appreciate the gift but quickly gave up at the bushy-haired girl’s harsh glare.

“Come to think of it,” said Sirius, emerging from pantry after Hermione had left the present for Kreacher to find later, “has anyone actually seen Kreacher lately?”

“I haven’t seen him since the night we came back here,” said Sarah. “You were ordering him out of the kitchen.”

“Yeah…” said Sirius, frowning. “You know. I think that’s the last time I saw him, too…He must be hiding upstairs somewhere…”

“He couldn’t have left, could he?” said Harry. “I mean, when you said ‘out’, maybe he thought you mean, get out of the house?”

“No, no, house-elves can’t leave unless they’re given clothes, they’re tied to their family’s house,” said Sirius.

“They can leave if they really want to,” Draco contradicted him. “Dobby used to leave to warn Harry.”

Sirius looked slightly disconcerted for moment, then said, “I’ll look for him later, I expect I’ll find upstairs crying his eyes out over my mother’s old bloomers or something…Of course, he might have crawled into the airing cupboard and died…But I mustn’t get my hopes up…”

Fred, George and Ron laughed; Hermione, however, looked reproachful.

Sarah frowned. “We tried calling for him the morning after we got here, remember?” she said to Sirius. “He should have come even if he were upstairs.”

“Maybe he just didn’t hear me,” Sirius said in an uncertain tone.

Now Draco was frowning. “You and I both know that’s not how that works, Sirius.”

“There’s nowhere he could have gone,” Sirius argued. The others had settled around the table and were happily talking amongst themselves. “He’s tied to the family.”

“Yes,” Draco agreed. “Which is why it’s weird that he ignored a direct member of the…of the…family…”

He had suddenly trailed off, his grey eyes wide with horror.

“I have to go check something,” he said suddenly before racing out of the kitchen, leaving Sarah and Sirius staring after him in shock.

“What was all that about?” Sirius asked.

“Sometimes he has ideas and he forgets that we can’t read his mind,” Sarah stated. “He’ll tell us soon enough.”

Once they had had their Christmas lunch, the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, Draco and Sarah were planning to pay Mr Weasley another visit, escorted by Mad-Eye and Remus. Draco had returned to the kitchen looking slightly ill but he had deflected all of Sarah’s questions. Mundungus turned up in time for Christmas pudding and trifle, having managed to “borrow” a car the occasion, as the Underground did not run on Christmas Day. The car, which Sarah doubted very much had been taken with the knowledge or consent of its owner, had had a similar Enlarging Spell put upon it as the Weasleys’ old Ford Anglia; although normally proportioned outside (from what Sarah remembered of the Granger’s car), twelve people with Mundungus driving were able to fit into it quite comfortable. Mrs Weasley hesitated at the point of getting inside; Sarah knew that her disapproval of Mundungus was battling with her dislike of travelling without magic; finally the cold outside and her children’s pleading triumphed, and she settled herself into the backseat between Fred and Bill with good grace.

The reception area of the hospital looked pleasantly festive: the crystal orbs that illuminated St Mungo’s had been turned to red and gold so that they became gigantic, glowing Christmas baubles; holly hung around every doorway, and shining white Christmas trees covered in magical snow and icicles glittered in every corner, each topped with a gleaming gold star. It was less crowded than the last time they had been there, although halfway across the room Sarah found herself shunted aside by a witch with a walnut jammed up her left nostril.

“Family argument, eh?” smirked the blond witch behind the desk. “You’re the third I’ve seen today…Spell Damage, fourth floor…”

They found Mr Weasley propped up in bed with the remains of his turkey dinner on a tray in his lap and a rather sheepish expression on his face.

“Everything all right, Arthur?” asked Mrs Weasley, after they had all greeted Mr Weasley and handed over their presents.

“Fine, fine,” said Mr Weasley, a little too heartily. “You – er – haven’t seen Healer Smethwyck, have you?”

“No,” said Mrs Weasley suspiciously, “why?”

“Nothing, nothing,” said Mr Weasley airily, starting to unwrap his pile of gifts. “Well, everyone had a good day? What did you all get for Christmas? Oh, _Harry_ – this is absolutely _wonderful_ – “

He had just opened Harry’s gift of fuse-wire and screwdrivers. Harry had spent nearly an hour explaining to Sarah the necessity of those things. Mrs Weasley did not seem entirely satisfied with Mr Weasley’s answer. As her husband leaned over to shake Harry’s hand, she peered at the bandaging under his nightshirt.

“Arthur,” she said, with a snap in her voice like a mousetrap, “you’ve had your bandages changed. Why have you had your bandages changed a day early, Arthur? They told me they wouldn’t need doing until tomorrow?”

“What?” said Mr Weasley, looking rather frightened and pulling the bed covers higher up his chest. “No, no – it’s nothing – it’s - I – “

He seemed to deflate under Mrs Weasley’s piercing gaze.

“Well – now don’t get upset, Molly, but Augustus Pye had an idea…He’s the Trainee Healer, you know, lovely young chap and very interested in…um…complementary medicine…I mean, some of these old Muggle remedies…well, they’re called _stitches_ , Molly, and they work very well on – on Muggle wounds – “

Mrs Weasley let out an ominous noise somewhere between a shriek and a snarl. Remus strolled away from the bed and over to the werewolf, who had no visitors and was looking rather wistfully at the crowd around Mr Weasley; Bill muttered something about getting himself a cup of tea and Fred and George leapt up to accompany him, grinning.

“Do you mean to tell me,” said Mrs Weasley, her voice growing louder with every word and apparently unaware that her fellow visitors were scurrying for cover, “that you have been messing about with Muggle remedies?”

“Not messing about, Molly, dear,” said Mr Weasley imploringly. “It was just – just something Pye and I thought we’d try – only, most unfortunately – well, with these particular kinds of wounds – it doesn’t seem to work as well as we’d hoped – “

“ _Meaning?”_

“Well…well, I don’t know whether you know what – what stitches are?”

“It sounds as though you’ve been trying to sew your skin back together,” said Mrs Weasley with a snort of mirthless laughter, “but even you, Arthur, wouldn’t be _that_ stupid – “

“I fancy a cup of tea, too,” said Harry, jumping to his feet and dragging Draco with him.

Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Sarah almost sprinted to the door with them. As it swung closed behind them, they heard Mrs Weasley shriek, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THAT’S THE GENERAL IDEA?”

“Typical Dad,” said Ginny, shaking her head as they set off up the corridor. “Stitches…I ask you…”

“Well, you know, they do work well on non-magical wounds,” said Hermione fairly. “I suppose something in that snake’s venom dissolves them or something…I wonder where the tearoom is?”

“Fifth floor,” Sarah and Harry said in unison, smiling at each other.

They walked along the corridor through a set of double doors and found a rickety staircase lined with more portraits of brutal-looking Healers. Eventually, they stopped on a floor and looked around, trying to find any signage to point indicate where they were.

“What floor’s this?”

“I think it’s the fifth,” said Hermione.

“Nah, it’s the fourth,” said Harry, “one more – “

He stopped talking suddenly and his face slackened as he gazed open-mouthed at the face that was peering back at him through a glass window. The man had wavy blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a broad vacant smile that revealed dazzlingly white teeth.

“Blimey!” said Ron, also staring at the man. Sarah and Draco could do nothing but stare in shock.

“Oh my goodness,” said Hermione suddenly, sounding breathless. “Professor Lockhart!”

Their ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher pushed open the double doors marking the entrance to the Spell Damage ward. He walked toward them, the long lilac dressing gown he was wearing swishing at his feet.

“Well, hello there!” she said. “I expect you’d like my autograph, would you?”

“Hasn’t changed much, has he?” Draco muttered to Harry, who grinned.

“Er – how are you, Professor?” said Ron, sounding slightly guilty. It had been Ron’s malfunctioning wand that had damaged Lockhart’s memory so badly that he had landed here in the first place, though, as Lockhart had been attempting to permanently wipe Harry, Ron and Draco’s memories at the time, Sarah’s sympathy was limited.

“I’m very well indeed, thank you!” said Lockhart exuberantly, pulling a rather battered peacock-feather quill from his pocket. “Now, how many autographs would you like? I can do joined-up writing now, you know!”

“Er – we don’t want any at the moment, thanks,” said Ron, raising his eyebrows at Harry, who asked, “Professor, should you be wandering around the corridors? Shouldn’t you be in a ward?”

The smile faded slowly from Lockhart’s face. For a few tense moments he gazed intently at Harry, then he said, “Haven’t we met?”

“Er…yeah, we have,” said Harry. “You used to teach us at Hogwarts, remember?”

Sarah coughed pointedly and Harry cringed. Despite that, Lockhart said, “Teach?” He looked faintly unsettled. “Me? Did I?”

And then the smile reappeared upon his face so suddenly it was rather alarming. “Taught you everything you know, I expect, did I? Well, how about those autographs, then? Shall we say a round dozen, you can give them to all your little friends then and nobody will be left out!”

But then a head poked out of a door at the far end of the corridor and a voice said, “Gilderoy, you naughty boy, where have you wandered off to?”

A motherly looking Healer wearing a tinsel wreath in her hair came bustling up the corridor, smiling warmly at Sarah and the others.

“Oh Gilderoy, you’ve got visitors! How _lovely_ , and on Christmas Day too! Do you know, he _never_ gets visitors, poor lamb, and I can’t think why, he’s such a sweetie, aren’t you?”

“We’re doing autographs!” Gilderoy told the Healer with another glittering smile. “They want loads of them, won’t take no for an answer! I just hope we’ve got enough photographs!”

“Listen to him,” said the Healer, taking Lockhart’s arm and beaming fondly at him as though he were a precious two-year-old. “He was rather well known a few years ago; we very much hope that this liking for giving autographs is a sign that his memory might be coming back a little bit. Will you step this way? He’s in a closed ward, you know, he must have slipped out while I was bringing in the Christmas presents, the door’s usually kept locked…not that he’s dangerous! But,” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “bit of a danger to himself, bless him…Doesn’t know who he is, you see, wanders off and can’t remember how to get back…It _is_ nice of you to have come to see him – “

Somehow they ended up being led to the Janus Thickey, which was for long-term residents with permanent spell damage. Sarah suddenly got a very bad feeling about it.

“Draco,” she said urgently as they entered the quiet ward, “we shouldn’t be here. We need to leave. _Now_.”

“Why?” Draco whispered back, slowing his steps. The others had gathered around Lockhart’s bed as the Healer bustled around the other patient’s beds.

“Permanent spell damage ward,” she hissed quickly. “Do you know who’s going to be here?”

Draco’s grey eyes widened in horror as he realised who she was talking about. They were about to turn around and leave the ward when Ron’s loud voice suddenly called, “ _Neville!”_

Sarah gripped Draco’s arm tightly as Neville jumped and cowered as though a spell had narrowly missed him.

“It’s us, Neville!” said Ron brightly, getting to his feet. “Have you seen? Lockhart’s here! Who’ve you been visiting?”

“Ron, please shut up,” Sarah said desperately in a hushed voice. “Draco and I should really be leaving. We shouldn’t be here – “

“Friends of yours, Neville, dear?” said a formidable looking old witch wearing a long green dress, a moth-eaten fox fur, and a pointed hat decorated with a stuffed vulture. She must have been Neville’s grandmother.

Neville looked as though he would rather be anywhere in the world but here. A dull purple flush was creeping up his plump face and he was not making eye contact with any of them. Sarah tugged at Draco’s arm, scared blue eyes meeting grey. They took a few steps back away from the group.

Meanwhile, Neville’s grandmother was shaking Harry’s hand. She turned to Ron and Ginny.

“And you two are clearly Weasleys,” Mrs Longbottom said, proffering her hand regally to Ron and Ginny in turn. “yes, I know your parents – not well, of course – but fine people, fine people…and you must be Hermione Granger?”

Hermione looked rather startled that Mrs Longbottom knew her name but shook hands all the same.

“Yes, Neville’s told me all about you. Helped him out of a few sticky spots, haven’t you?” she said, pointing her sharp nose at Neville. “He’s a good boy but he hasn’t got his father’s talent, I’m afraid to say…” And she jerked her head in the direction of the two beds at the end of the ward.

“What?” said Ron, looking amazed. He, Hermione and Ginny had been following the conversation in confusion. “Is that your _dad_ down the end, Neville?”

“What’s this?” said Mrs Longbottom sharply. “Haven’t you told your friends about your parents, Neville?”

Neville took a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. Sarah could not remember feeling sorrier for anyone, but she couldn’t do anything but stand there, tears pricking the back of her eyes.

“Well, it’s nothing to be ashamed of!” said Mrs Longbottom angrily. “You should be _proud_ , Neville, _proud_! They didn’t give their health and their sanity so their only son would be ashamed of them, you know!”

“I’m not ashamed,” said Neville very faintly, still looking everywhere but at them. Ron was now standing on tiptoe to look over at the inhabitants of the two beds.

“Well, you’ve got a funny way of showing it!” said Mrs Longbottom. “My son and his wife,” she said, turning haughtily to Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, “were tortured into insanity by You-Know-Who’s followers.”

Hermione and Ginny both clapped their hands over their mouths. Ron stopped craning his next to catch a glimpse of Neville’s parents and looked mortified.

“They were Aurors, you know, and very well respected within the Wizarding community,” Mrs Longbottom went on as she took a few steps closer to the exit of the ward. Unfortunately, that put Sarah and Draco in her view. “Highly gifted, the pair of them. I – “

She suddenly cut off as she registered who was standing half-hidden by a privacy screen. Sarah felt dread rise in her throat as Mrs Longbottom turned toward her and Draco, who had paled slightly. Her eyes widened and her nostrils flared as recognition shone in her dark eyes.

“What are you doing here?” she said in a low voice. “How dare _you_ of all people come _here_.”

“I – I – “ Draco tried, his voice shaking.

“It wasn’t intentional,” Sarah said quickly in a small voice. “We’re sorry. We’re – we’re not trying to be disrespectful. Neville’s our friend – “

“Is this true, Neville?” Mrs Longbottom said sharply, turning to her grandson. “Do you claim them as your friends?”

Everyone else was now watching with confused expressions, except for Harry, who looked distraught and very much like he wanted to come over and wrap them both in a hug.

“Y-yes,” Neville mumbled to his grandmother. “Sarah and Draco have always been kind to me.”

Mrs Longbottom sniffed.

“Well,” she said curtly, “You won’t see me sharing tea with any other _their_ family. Especially considering what _his_ aunt did!”

Draco flinched and Sarah tightened her grip.

“Draco had nothing to do with that,” she said in a low voice. “You can’t blame him for something that happened when he was barely a year old.”

Mrs Longbottom looked sharply at her.

“You’re the Deaumont child aren’t you?” she said. “Yes, I can see the resemblance now. You look very similar to your mother. Shame she married your father – she was an excellent witch. Much like my son and his wife, they mentioned her quite frequently.”

Sarah closed her eyes as Draco’s grip on her intensified. Mrs Longbottom shot a look over her shoulder before glancing at Neville again.

“You disrespect them by being friends with this boy,” she said harshly to Neville. “And the girl, she’s associated with their family. Haven’t they already taken enough?”

“What are you talking about?” Ron asked in confusion. “Why are you saying these things about Draco and Sarah?”

“They don’t know?” Mrs Longbottom said incredulously. She turned to Draco and looked down her nose at him. “Too ashamed were you? Good.” She turned back to Ron and the others and said in the same haughty tone, “It’s thanks to _his_ aunt Bellatrix Lestrange that my son and his wife are in this condition. They fought bravely against her and her husband but were overpowered when more followers arrived. I bet Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy love telling that story.”

Draco shook his head in a jerking movement.

Neville spoke suddenly in a quiet voice, “Gran, stop.” His grandmother looked to him in surprise. “Draco had nothing to do with that. He’s my friend and so is Sarah. Please don’t be rude to them.”

“We should go,” Sarah said quietly. “I’m sorry, Neville, Mrs Longbottom. Truly.”

Draco lifted his head; his grey eyes were clouded and shining. “I can’t ever apologise enough for what my aunt did,” he said hoarsely. “But Neville _is_ my friend.”

Mrs Longbottom didn’t say anything, just kept staring at them intensely.

Sarah turned to Harry and said, “We’ll see you back downstairs.” Harry nodded and Sarah pulled Draco out of the ward and back down the stairs.

When they reached ward Mr Weasley was in, Draco pulled her out of the main hallway and wrapped his arms around her. His breathing was ragged and harsh and he hid his face in her neck. She felt hot tears fall onto her skin and she gripped him tightly.

“I – I didn’t realise – It was – I can’t – “ he blubbered.

“Shh,” Sarah whispered. “It’s okay.”

Draco continued to sob into her neck and Sarah finally let the tears fall. She didn’t know how long they were standing in that deserted corridor but when their tears had finally dried, they were both tired and wrung out.

“Neville doesn’t hate you,” Sarah said quietly, wiping the tear tracks off Draco’s face. “He’s always known who you were and he still chose to be friends with you anyway.”

Draco nodded. “I know,” he murmured. “It’s just horrible knowing that my aunt is the reason his parents don’t recognise him.”

“I know,” Sarah said miserably. “But we can’t change that. We have to move on and prove that we’re better than our families.”

“Better than our families,” Draco repeated weakly, nodding. “We can do it.”

“Yes, we can.”

***

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

They had arrived back in Grimmauld Place and as soon as they had all stepped into the kitchen, Ron had turned a furious glare upon Draco and Sarah. Sirius and Remus glanced up in surprise from where they had been drinking tea and talking.

“Why didn’t you tell us that Bellatrix Lestrange was your _aunt_?” Ron demanded. “How could you not tell us that she did _that_ to Neville’s parents?”

Recognition lit Remus and Sirius’ faces and they quickly stood up and joined their group.

“It wasn’t my information to tell,” Draco bit out. “I wasn’t going to go around shouting about how Neville’s parents were in the Janus Thickey ward because my aunt tortured them until they lost their minds!”

Draco bit his tongue to stop the words from flowing out of him.

“What’s this about?” Sirius asked in an uncharacteristically stern voice.

“We bumped into Gilderoy Lockhart in the hospital,” Sarah explained quietly. “He was in the Janus Thickey ward and then we saw Neville and his grandmother…”

“And Mrs Longbottom got angry at Draco and Sarah because she thought they were being disrespectful of Neville’s parents,” finished Harry.

Sirius’ face tightened.

“Draco had nothing to do with Bellatrix’s actions,” he said, his tone offering no room for argument. “And anyone who blames him will have to deal with me.”

“But he should have told us!” Ron argued. “We’re his friends.”

“Should he have?” Remus countered. “It’s his private business. You don’t see me going around exclaiming I’m a werewolf to everyone I meet.”

“But your friends knew and that’s different.”

“They knew because they figured it out and I had to confirm it,” Remus said calmly. “Draco’s business is his own.”

“Anyway,” Sirius added. “It’s not like you couldn’t have figured it out. Dear Bella’s name is on that horrid tapestry in the other room. You know she’s my cousin, remember?”

Ron’s face blanched. It seemed he had forgotten that piece of information.

“Look, it doesn’t matter that Draco didn’t tell you,” Sarah said, rubbing her face roughly. “Today has been quite shit and I want a nap. You already knew what our families were like and seemed to deal with it before. So all I’m asking is for you to deal with it now.”

And with that, she walked out of the kitchen.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

The days began to pass quickly after that. Ron had gotten over his little spat and apologised to Draco for being unnecessarily rude to him. Kreacher was found lurking in the attic. Sarah didn’t miss it when Draco pulled the house-elf away angrily. His face had remained pinched for the rest of the day and he spoke to Remus and Sirius in hushed tones at the first opportunity. The festive decorations vanished and instead, school things and uniforms began to make an appearance as they packed for the new term. Mrs Weasley was cleaning and pressing uniforms, clothes, and robes in between checking around the house for any items left lying around.

Order members popped in occasionally to say hello but no meetings were held. One memorable occasion included Tonks staying for dinner and changing her appearance to re-enact various scenes from her time at Hogwarts, when she would get caught for impersonating professors and students.

On the last day of the holidays, Snape dropped by, to everyone’s surprise and slight horror. Harry had nearly choked on toast when Mrs Weasley informed him that the Potions professor was here to speak with him.

Unfortunately, when Sarah and Draco pushed into the kitchen twenty minutes later, it was to find Snape and Sirius standing opposite each other, wands raised. Remus had his own wand out and was watching the two men wearily as Harry stood between them, his arms outstretched. They all froze comically as Sarah and Draco entered, eyes wide.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Draco exclaimed.

“Language Draco,” Snape said coolly, relaxing and pocketing his wand. “I merely informed Potter that he would be commencing Remedial Potions lessons with me this term.”

“Well, that’s bullshit,” Sarah announced, throwing herself into a seat and propping her legs up on the table. Snape glared at her while Sirius and Remus observed her with amusement. “Harry doesn’t need tutoring in Potions, not with Draco and I helping him. What does Dumbledore really want him to do?”

Snape’s black eyes narrowed slightly but Sarah thought she detected a hint of pride in them.

“That is between the Headmaster and Potter,” he drawled. “You would do well to keep out of it.”

Draco snorted. “Sorry Sev, not going to happen. Harry will tell us the minute you leave.”

Harry nodded quickly with a large smirk and Sirius let out a bark of laughter at Snape’s disgruntled expression.

“Dumbledore wants Harry to learn Occlumency, doesn’t he?” Sarah asked, stealing a biscuit off the plate in front of Remus. She looked up to see the surprised glances of the three adults. “What? I know things.”

“You’re going to teach Harry Occlumency?” Draco asked Snape, frowning slightly. “Is that the best idea? I mean, you two don’t get along and Occlumency can be very intrusive.”

Sirius and Harry did not look very happy with his words. Snape, however, scowled and said, “And what do you know of Occlumency, Draco?”

Draco shrugged. “A thing or two.”

There was no way that they were going to admit that he and Sarah had been researching Occlumency and Legilimency in their free time ever since Sarah had approached him after her conversation with Harry.

Snape’s scowl deepened. “The Headmaster believes it is the best for Potter if I were to teach him. Trust me,” he added with a sneer in Harry’s direction, “it is the _last_ thing I want to do.”

“Then why can’t Harry just practice with us?” Sarah said.

“Because you need a _trained_ Legilimens, not amateurs,” said Snape silkily. “You would most likely damage Potter’s mind more than it already is.”

“Sev…” Draco said in a warning tone. “Don’t…”

Snape sneered but at that moment, the kitchen door burst open and the entire Weasley family, plus Hermione, came inside, all looking very happy, with Mr Weasley walking proudly in their midst dressed in a pair of striped pyjamas.

“Cured!” he announced brightly to the kitchen at large. “Completely cured!”

Everyone froze as they took in the tense atmosphere.

“What’s going on here?” said Mr Weasley, the smile sliding off his face.

Snape swept across the kitchen, passing the Weasleys without comment. He offered a nod to Draco and Sarah before saying to Harry, “Six o’clock Monday evening, Potter.”

He was gone. Sirius glared after him, his wand still at his side.

Remus stood up and smiled at Mr Weasley.

“You’re cured?” he said, dispersing the tense air. “That’s great new, really great…”

***

The last day of the holidays arrived. Thankfully, Mrs Weasley had gotten everyone organised the day before and the morning departure was much less hurried than the summer’s one. The Knight Bus dropped them off at Hogwarts’ gates, barely giving them time to wave goodbye to Remus and Tonks before it disappeared in a flash of purple light.

Sarah and Draco split from the Gryffindors in the entrance hall and hurried to go put their trunks in their dormitories.

“Sarah! Draco!” Pansy called as they pushed open the door. Blaise, Pansy, Millicent and Theo were all crowed in Sarah’s room, Daphne and Tracey Davies nowhere to be seen. “Where the _fuck_ did you disappear to?”

“Ugh, family emergency,” Sarah said haltingly. Pansy raised an eyebrow and she added, “Weasley family emergency.”

“So is that why you all vanished in the middle of the night?” Theo asked. He was lounging on Millicent’s bed, his brown eyes wide. “Umbridge was pissed.”

Draco grimaced slightly. “Yes, there was a certain – er – delicateness to the situation,” he said.

“Which means you can’t tell us what happened or where you were,” Blaise interjected. He was lying on Sarah’s bed and she pushed his feet out of the way so she could sit down.

“Well,” Sarah said carefully, “I guess we can tell you that Mr Weasley was injured, which was why we left so suddenly, and we stayed with them the rest of the holidays.”

“Is he okay?” Millicent asked.

Draco nodded. “Yep, he was back home yesterday – perfectly fine.”

“Well, that’s good at least,” Blaise drawled. “My holidays were _atrocious_. Mother introduced me to her newest husband; I wasn’t even aware the previous one had died.”

Millicent cringed. “Blaise, your mother is terrifying.”

Blaise shrugged and said, “I never know whether she’s trying to set a record or if her husbands just have abysmal luck.”

“That’s uncouth, Blaise,” Sarah tutted. “Surely the Christmas party was acceptable.”

They all exchanged a heavy glance.

“What?” said Draco, looking at the others in confusion.

“Erm – “ Pansy started with another glance at Millicent. “Well, the thing is…Your parents didn’t host a Christmas party this year, Draco.”

“ _What?”_

Sarah was gaping in shock. The Malfoys always, without fail, held an extravagant party in the Manor. The fact that they hadn’t was extremely unlike them.

“Did mother say why?” Draco asked quickly. “I haven’t heard from her.”

Blaise shook his head.

“No one’s heard from them for a while,” he said softly. “My mother got an owl saying that due to unforeseen complications, they would be unable to host this year. That was it.”

“So no one’s heard from my mother?” Draco said. Pansy, Blaise, Millicent and Theo nodded in confirmation. “What about my father? Surely he’s still doing business.”

Theo hesitated slightly before saying, “Apparently he’s taken some time off for personal reasons. His usual business is conducting itself.”

Draco held onto Sarah’s bedpost like it was his life support. His face was extremely pale now.

“What about my father?” Sarah asked. Theo shook his head.

Sarah pulled Draco over until he was resting against her. The others looked at him sympathetically.

“What if she’s in trouble?” muttered Draco. “What if something happened and no one knows about it?”

“We’ll send her an owl tomorrow,” Sarah said determinedly. “And if she doesn’t reply, we’ll call one of the house-elves.”

Draco nodded heavily. Pansy started chattering about the newest fashion trend to fill the tense silence. Eventually, they called it a night and Sarah went to bed with her head full of questions and worries.

The next morning, Sarah had barely woken up before Draco was dragging her out of bed, a letter clutched to his chest. She threw on her uniform and followed him out of the dormitory, the other girls still sleeping peacefully behind them.

The day found both Harry and Draco dreading the evening. Harry because of his first Occlumency lesson with Snape and Draco because that was when his mother’s reply should arrive. Sarah waited with Draco in the Gryffindor common room for Harry’s lesson to finish, both distractedly trying to complete their homework for the day. Fred and George were demonstrating their newest product, Headless Hats, and the common room was full of shrieks of laughter and excitement.

At eight o’clock, the portrait hole was pushed open to reveal Hermione, Ron and a very white, shaky Harry.

“Oh Merlin, are you all right?” Draco said worriedly, getting to his feet and reaching for his boyfriend.

Harry gratefully sunk into his embrace and said, “I – I’m okay…Head hurts a bit…I don’t like Occlumency much…”

Sarah scowled. “It probably doesn’t help that Snape won’t even be trying to be gentle. Any attack on the mind is painful.”

The other three sat down in the chairs around the table and tried to continue their homework. Harry was sitting with his head in his hands, looking very green.

“I can’t do this,” he said, pushing his homework away. “I think I’ll go to bed.”

“I’ll work on it for you,” Draco said, rubbing Harry’s back. “Then we’ll go through it tomorrow.”

Harry kissed his cheek in thanks, stood up, ignoring Hermione’s disapproving look, and trudged off to the boy’s stairs. Sarah watched him for a moment before declaring, “I’m going to go give him something to help him sleep.” The others nodded and she grabbed a potion vial out of her bag and hurried towards the boy’s dorms, dodging Fred, who tried to put a Headless Hat on her.

When she pushed open the door, however, she raced forward in horror.

“Harry? HARRY!”

Harry was lying on the floor, curled up around himself and laughing hysterically. His scar was a bright red as though it was being split open anew. Sarah dropped to her knees and slapping his across the face, shouting his name again.

Harry’s eyes opened and he let out a cry of pain. Once the cloudiness had disappeared from his green irises, the manic laughter cut off and he lay on the ground staring up at the ceiling, heavy pants falling from his chest.

“Harry, are you all right? What happened?” Sarah asked, her voice tight with worry. She helped him shakily sit up.

“I…dunno…” Harry gasped. “He’s really happy…really happy…”

“Voldemort?”

“Something good’s happened,” mumbled Harry. He was shaking as badly as he had done after seeing the snake attack Mr Weasley. “Something he’s been hoping for.”

“Harry, I need you to listen to me,” Sarah said urgently as she led him to his bed. He collapsed upon it with a groan. “I’m going to give you a dose of Dreamless Sleep so that you’ll sleep uninterrupted. Tomorrow, you’re going to start practicing Occlumency with Draco and me. We’re going to figure out the best way to shield your mind without reducing you to a shaking mess each time.”

Harry nodded absently and accepted the vial she gave him. She stroked back his hair as he quickly fell asleep, his head falling heavily to the pillows. Sarah took his glasses off and placed them on his bedside table. She quickly changed him into his pyjamas and pulled the covers up high over his body. With one last worried look, she left, closing the door quietly behind her.

Sarah slowly descended down the stairs, her mind whirring. What was Voldemort so happy about? Why was Snape being so harsh with his training? Why wasn’t Dumbledore training Harry?

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted when she stepped into the common room and saw Draco’s face, his hands gripping a letter tightly.

“Draco?” she asked cautiously.

“Mother’s all right,” he said in an emotionless voice. He was staring blankly at the letter. “The Manor is being occupied by some guests at the moment. She said we shouldn’t correspond anymore. She says she loves both of us and to stay safe.”

Sarah’s face blanched. “The Manor’s not safe anymore, is it?”

Draco shook his head.

Ron and Hermione were listening with avid attentiveness.

“What does that mean?” Ron asked.

Draco finally looked up from the letter and said, his voice grave and stricken, “It means that Voldemort is living in the Manor now.”


	14. Chapter Fourteen

The answer to Voldemort’s sudden good mood was provided the next morning. When Pansy’s _Daily Prophet_ arrived she smoothed it out, gazed for a moment at the front page, and then gave a yelp that caused everyone in the vicinity to stare at her.

“What?” said Sarah, Blaise and Draco together.

Pansy continued to stare at the front page in horror, her tanned face quickly losing all its colour. She wordlessly moved some of the dishes out of the way and spread the newspaper in front of them all, pointing, rather unnecessarily in Sarah’s opinion, at the ten pictures of jeering Azkaban inmates. The headline read: **MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN. MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS “RALLYING POINT” FOR OLD DEATH EATERS.**

“Oh Merlin, oh Merlin,” Sarah said, hyperventilating somewhat. “This can’t be happening.”

Draco was staring at the moving picture of the only witch on the list. Bellatrix Lestrange. His aunt’s heavily lidded eyes peered up at them as an arrogant, disdainful smile played around her thin mouth. Her long dark hair, unkempt and scraggly, looked so much like Sirius’ when he had escaped from Azkaban nearly three years ago.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Sarah muttered, covering her mouth.

“Don’t,” Blaise advised. “People are already looking.”

It was true. Most of the Slytherin table was staring at their group, more specifically Draco. Nearly all of the purebloods in the school knew of Draco’s relation to Bellatrix Lestrange. At the Gryffindor table, Sarah could see people shooting surprised glances at Neville. It wasn’t commonly known who Bellatrix had tortured, it was just one of the many crimes she committed as a Death Eater.

Harry’s green eyes caught Sarah’s attention and he pointed at Draco, looking worried. She shook her head and darted a glance at the boy in question. His face was blank but his silver eyes were pained.

“They think Sirius Black helped them escape,” Theo whispered, reading the article over Pansy’s shoulder. “Do you think that’s true?”

Sarah shook her head violently. “Sirius is innocent. He had nothing to do with this.”

Four shock faces met hers and she realised what she had said.

“Fuck,” she muttered. “You can’t tell anyone that, okay?”

“How the fuck do you know that Black is innocent?” Blaise hissed.

“Because he’s dating my godfather okay?” Sarah snapped in a low voice. “And we’ve been living with him the past two summers.”

Her friends stared dumbstruck back at her.

“Remus is going to be pissed you told them,” Draco said in a flat voice. He suddenly looked at Sarah. “Do you think this is what mother meant in her letter? Do you think these were the unexpected guests?”

“Probably,” Sarah agreed reluctantly. “But now it’s much more likely that Voldemort is there as well. Especially considering that my father has been there for months.”

Blaise, Pansy, Millicent and Theo were watching them incredulously.

“You-Know-Who is living at Malfoy Manor?” Blaise uttered weakly, his usual calm façade shattered.

“We believe so,” Sarah confirmed. “Narcissa sent a very worrisome letter.”

“Heads up,” Theo muttered suddenly. “Snape.”

Professors Snape, McGonagall and Dumbledore had descended and were striding toward the Slytherin table. Heads turned as they passed and eventually stopped right in front of their group.

“Mr Malfoy, Miss Deaumont, Miss Parkinson, Mr Nott,” Dumbledore said gravely. “Can you come with us, please?”

Whispers broke out as the four of them stood and followed the three Professors out of the Hall. They were led to Dumbledore’s office, where they were offered seats and lemon drops. Unsurprisingly, they all declined the sweets. Professors Snape and McGonagall hovered behind Dumbledore as he took a seat at his desk.

“I expect you all have an idea why I asked you here,” he stated calmly. They all nodded. “Considering the recent outbreak from Azkaban, we have decided that additional safety measures must be put in place for certain students.”

He gazed at the four of them with his bright blue eyes; they weren’t glittering behind his half-moon glasses today, something which showed how serious this was.

“Due to you having direct contact with assumed or confirmed Death Eaters, the teachers and I have thought it prudent to offer our assistance however we may,” Dumbledore continued. “We are aware that you four do not share the same views as your parents, which could potentially cause issues in the future. We are also aware of the threats you have been getting from your father, Miss Deaumont.”

Sarah cringed as Draco, Pansy and Theo turned to her with accusatory expressions on their faces.

“I didn’t want anyone to worry…” she muttered. “He hasn’t acted on anything…yet…”

“Exactly, Miss Deaumont,” Dumbledore nodded. “ _Yet_.”

Professor McGonagall’s lips thinned and her face was uncharacteristically soft as she peered at the four students. Professor Snape’s expression was as unreadable as ever.

“We are offering to limit the owls you can receive and to ensure that no unwanted or uninvited guests can reach you at Hogwarts,” explained Dumbledore. “Hopefully, this will deter any – er – harmful intentions toward you.”

Draco nodded along to his words.

“Who else is being offered this?” he asked. “And no one else can know about this. If word gets out to our parents via someone else, it will be inefficacious.”

“As of right now, only you four,” said Dumbledore. “However, we may contact others whose families have been directly impacted by Death Eaters, just in case.”

“So basically you’re making sure that because our fathers are Death Eaters, we can’t be harmed?” Sarah concluded. Dumbledore nodded. “Is it not slightly pointless?” she continued. “I mean, most people don’t even believe that Voldemort has returned. They’re much less likely to suspect our fathers of being Death Eaters if they can’t believe that major fact.”

Dumbledore looked unperturbed. “Regardless, this is simply to eliminate any possible contact. You are, of course, allowed to decline,” he added with a slight smile.

Sarah barely refrained from rolling her eyes. “No, I don’t think we really can decline,” she said.

Pansy leant back in her chair, elegantly crossing one leg over the other.

“Shall we provide you with a list of approved contacts?” she asked politely. “Will this also include subscriptions and the like? Will you be looking through all our mail?”

Sarah snorted but quickly turned it into a cough at Snape’s harsh look. She knew all about the type of subscriptions that Pansy got delivered to her.

Dumbledore smiled and said in a bright voice, “Of course we won’t be reading your mail, Miss Parkinson. A list, however, would be greatly appreciated. If you could all present them to either myself, Professor Snape or Professor McGonagall by tomorrow evening, we will place the necessary wards in.”

They all nodded in agreement.

“Was there anything else, Professor?” Draco asked politely.

“No, that is all,” said Dumbledore. “You may go to class now.”

Sarah, Pansy, Theo and Draco all got to their feet and pushed through the oak double doors. Once they were safely on their way to Charms, Theo let out a great sigh.

“Well, shit just got interesting, didn’t it?” he said bluntly. Sarah couldn’t help the laugh that burst out at his comment and soon the other three were laughing with her.

“Why – why are we – laughing?” gasped Pansy. “Our fathers are most likely meeting with old snake-face and planning world domination as we speak.”

Sarah lost it again.

“Old – snake – face – “ she giggled. “You just called Voldemort old snake-face.”

“I can be much more creative,” Pansy stated. “Lord Fuckdemort. Lord Dickward. The Dark Fucker. Moldy Snake-face.”

“Pansy, stop before you kill Sarah,” Draco said, smiling widely. He was holding Sarah up with one hand as she gasped for breath, silently wheezing with laughter.

She had composed herself by the time they arrived in front of the Charms classroom and Draco went up to explain their late entrance to Professor Flitwick while Pansy and Theo dropped Sarah into a chair at the back. Every so often, Pansy’s words would run through her head and she’d have to smother a snort. A Ravenclaw who she didn’t remember the name of but looked vaguely familiar kept looking at her like she was crazy.

It was only at lunch that they could explain to Harry and the others what Dumbledore had spoken to them about. Hermione thought it was a brilliant idea and Harry, obviously, just wanted them to be safe. Ron was too busy stuffing his face with chicken to make any comments. Fred, as well, was extremely happy that Sarah wouldn’t be getting more threatening notes from her father.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” he grumbled that night during their first D.A meeting of the term. He slashed his wand slightly more viciously through the air than was warranted and Lee had to duck as a hex flew swiftly toward his face. “I’m your _boyfriend_.”

“I didn’t even tell _Draco_ ,” Sarah reminded him, calmly throwing a hex at George. Harry was having them revise some of the spells they had learnt last term. He and Draco were currently walking through the crowd, adjusting posture and offering advice. Harry was stubbornly avoiding going anywhere near Cho and had asked Hermione to check that area considering Sarah was busy consoling her angry boyfriend. “It’s not like I didn’t not just tell you.”

Fred huffed and threw another hex, earning an “Oi!” from Lee as the dark-skinned boy dived out of the way.

“Sarah, your dad is a vindictive bastard,” Fred stated, turning to face her. She faced him as well and crossed her arms over her chest. “I would have liked to know that he was threatening you.”

“He wasn’t threatening me, he was threatening _you_ ,” Sarah argued. “And this is why I didn’t want to tell you. You wouldn’t care that you’d be at risk.”

“Of course I care!” exclaimed Fred, throwing his arms up in the air. “I have a sadistic maniac after me and my girlfriend. I just care _more_ about your safety.”

“Fred…”

“No, listen to me,” he interrupted. “We need to trust each other. If you don’t tell me things like this, I’m not going to be aware that there’s anything to be wary of. What if he attacked me while I was doing business alone? You’d feel horrible.”

“Of course I fucking would,” snapped Sarah. “It’d be my fault – “

“No, it wouldn’t,” urged Fred. “It’d still be his. But I would at least like to be prepared. Because it would also mean that if something happened to _you_ suddenly, we’d know about it.”

Sarah sighed deeply. Some students were shooting glances their way and George and Lee were blatantly eavesdropping.

“Come over here,” muttered Sarah, dragging Fred to the far corner. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, okay? I thought I was doing the best thing for you.”

Fred shook his head. “The best thing for me is to be aware of if you’re in danger or not. If you don’t tell me, it makes me think you don’t trust me.”

“No, no, that’s not it at all,” Sarah said quickly. “I trust you, _of course_ I do. I trust you with my life.”

“It doesn’t seem like it when you do shit like this,” Fred said. Sarah felt her face crumple and Fred sighed. He ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up in some places. “I know you trust me,” he said in a soft voice, placing a hand on her cheek, “and I trust you. We’re in this together, Sarah. So please, _please_ , don’t leave me in the dark.”

She nodded. Fred wrapped his arms around her tightly, resting his head on top of hers.

“I’m sorry,” Sarah whispered again. “I’ll tell you in the future, I promise.”

“Thank you,” mumbled Fred into her hair.

Harry’s whistle interrupted them.

“You guys have really improved,” he said, smiling brightly. He gestured at everyone with his free hand, the other wrapped securely around Draco’s. “You’re even starting to work together – to know one another’s moves. I think we can plan to start on something more difficult now: patronuses.”

A murmur of excitement spread through the group at these words.

“Sarah and I will discuss how we will teach you, as we’re the only ones who know how to do a patronus,” Harry continued. “Is that all right with you?” he added, looking over the student’s heads at Sarah.

Sarah coughed as attention turned to her. “Of course,” she said smoothly. “But remember, I never managed a corporeal patronus.”

“Remus still said you were close,” Harry countered. “And you know the theory and spell so, regardless, I’ll need you up here with me.”

Sarah smirked. “Yes, Professor,” she said in a teasing voice. Harry flushed dark red as people laughed.

“That’s all for tonight,” Harry called. “We’ll contact you about the next meeting soon.”

Fred grabbed her hand and tugged her from the room as soon as people began leaving. She barely had enough time to wave to Draco before they were out the door and walking quickly to Gryffindor Tower.

It was only when they were in Fred’s room did she have the breath to stop him and ask, “We’re okay, aren’t we?”

Fred smiled at her and pulled her close for a long kiss. Sarah melted into it and gripped his body tightly.

“Of course we are,” he said, peppering mouthing kisses on her jaw. He moved down to suck on her neck and she had to hold in a groan.

“Fred…your roommates…” she gasped, tightening her grip on his shoulders as his mouth reached a sensitive spot near her ear. In reply, he heaved her up so that her legs wrapped around his torso and began to walk forward towards his bed. He lay her gently on top of the covers and flicked his wand a few times, closing the hangings around the bed and putting locking and silencing spells on them.

Once done, he immediately began to kiss her again, deepening it when she opened her mouth to him. One of his hands ran down her side to grip the hem of her sweater and Sarah reached down to pull it off. Fred’s shirt quickly followed as Sarah unbuttoned her own, throwing it to the side. Fred placed his hands on her waist and slowly moved them up and down, exploring her body, toned from years of Quidditch.

She bared her neck for him again as he moved slowly upwards, pressing kisses across her body. They both groaned loudly when he pressed his body closer to hers and his erection brushed up against her thigh.

“Pants…off…” Sarah panted, reaching down to the button. His trousers, pants and socks followed quickly, as well as Sarah’s skirt and underwear. The small space was filled with soft pants and gasps as they moved, skin on skin.

Sarah grabbed her wand to cast the necessary protection charms and then threw it on the bedside table. Fred glanced up at her with lust-blown brown eyes and waited for her nod before sliding inside her.

Sarah’s body arched as he began to move, dropping his head to her neck. His hot breath caressed her skin like the soft movements of his hands. Sarah ran her hands over his body in turn, sliding over the sweat-slick skin. Fred’s body was toned liked hers and his muscles tensed and flexed as his body moved. She reached up to pull him in for a kiss before moving to suck a mark on his neck, knowing that he had already given her a few.

She groaned lowly as her entire body clenched and relaxed in pleasure. Fred thrust frantically a few more times before he too stiffened and shuddered. Sarah pressed kisses to any available skin as Fred eventually relaxed and withdrew, falling heavily beside her.

Sarah stroked his damp hair back off his forehead and kissed him languidly. He pulled her close to him and she rested her head on his chest.

“I love you.”

It was barely more than a whisper but she still heard it. She didn’t even know if Fred had meant to say it.

Sarah pulled back slightly to see that Fred’s eyes had widened in panic. Yep, he definitely hadn’t meant to say that.

“I – um – well – er – “ he stuttered briefly as Sarah kept looking at him in shock. Suddenly, his face changed; it turned from panicked to determined. “I mean it. I love you, Sarah.”

Sarah gaped at him.

“But…why?” she asked.

It was Fred’s turn to stare at her now.

“What do you mean ‘why’?” he said incredulously. “You’re amazing! You’re kind, intelligent, loyal, hilarious, supportive, insanely _gorgeous_ , you aren’t afraid to put someone in their place and I know you’ll always fight for the ones you care about. I don’t think anyone _couldn’t_ love you.”

Sarah felt a blush rise up her cheeks. Fred gently stroked her face as he continued to speak with heartfelt sincerity.

“Sarah, you make me so happy whenever I see you. Just knowing that you chose to be with _me_ , even when you have so many people interested in you – “

“What?”

Fred laughed. “What part of _insanely gorgeous_ didn’t you get? Half the school wants to date or sleep with you, babe.”

“They do not!” she said, blushing again.

“That’s not the point here,” Fred said dismissively. “The point is, I’m trying to tell you all the reasons I love you. Yet again,” he added in a thoughtful tone, “that may take a while. I guess you’ll just have to stick around to get the entire list.”

He smiled softly at her and ran a finger up and down her cheekbone.

“I don’t expect you to say it back just because I did,” he said with a sweet smile that made Sarah’s heart thump painfully in her chest. “I didn’t even mean to say it but I don’t regret it.” He gripped either side of her face gently. “I _love_ you, Sarah. I really do.”

Sarah felt tears prick her eyes and she pulled Fred in for a bruising kiss.

“What was that for?” he asked, blinking dazedly when they separated.

“That was for being such a cute, sentimental daft _idiot!”_ Sarah said fondly.

“What?”

“I love you too, you moron,” she said, smiling widely. “If you had shut up for a moment instead of listing all my best attributes, you would’ve known that a few minutes ago.”

Fred positively beamed at her.

“You mean it?” he asked in delight. He dropped another kiss to her lips and Sarah pulled back quickly.

“ _Yes_ ,” she said with feeling. “Fred Weasley, for many reasons that I am _not_ going to list at this moment, _I_ _love you_.”

His brown eyes sparkled with so many emotions but now Sarah could clearly see the love that shone through. She had never felt this way about someone. Yes, she loved Draco and Harry and all her friends but it wasn’t that same way she loved Fred. She felt as if she couldn’t contain a smile when he was nearby; like he could make any bad situation better. She could trust him to push her when she needed it but also know when she wanted to be left alone.

Sarah smiled brightly again and watched as Fred’s eyes gleamed even brighter. She kissed him deeply and climbed on top of him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. She hadn’t been this happy in forever and she never wanted to let that feeling go.

***

January passed in a blur of lessons, D.A meetings and Occlumency practice. Sarah and Draco had begun to help Harry through the techniques required to shield his mind.

“You have to clear your mind,” Sarah repeated for the unknown time that evening. The three of them had sequestered the Room of Requirement to practice but so far Harry had been struggling to make any progress.

“I don’t know _how_ to do that!” Harry snapped in reply, one hand rubbing his scar. “It doesn’t matter how many times you say it, it doesn’t help me understand!”

Sarah took a step back and glowered at him. He had been getting more and more irritable as the weeks went on. His scar was hurting more often and constant headaches and lack of sleep caused him to snap at everyone, including Draco. Just yesterday the two boys had had a massive row in the Gryffindor common room which led to Draco storming out, leaving Harry fuming behind him before the dark-haired boy realised what had happened. Draco had refused to talk to his boyfriend all day today, despite Harry’s constant grovelling and apologies. Sarah knew that Draco was just hurt and would forgive Harry in no time.

She sighed and came back to the present, running a hand over her face.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just worried. I want to help but I think Snape’s lessons are just making it worse.”

Harry’s head sagged and he nodded. “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just – just so angry recently. Like the smallest thing can set me off and I don’t even know why.”

Sarah walked up to him and put her hand on his shoulder.

“Why don’t we take a quick break?” she suggested. “I brought butterbeer.”

“How’d you get that?” asked Harry as they sat down in front of the fire, bottles in hand.

Sarah smirked. “Fred, of course.”

Harry nodded and took a large gulp of the drink.

“Will Draco forgive me?” he whispered, fingers picking at the bottle’s label.

Sarah turned to face him properly.

“Draco will always forgive you, Harry,” she said sincerely. “He’s just hurt. You said some awful things last night. But he will forgive you.”

“I didn’t even realise I was saying half of those things until it was done,” Harry muttered. “Suddenly, it was like I was back in control and Draco was just staring at me, looking completely devastated.”

Sarah nodded. “That’s why we’re doing this. I know it’s hard but it will help keep your mind your own.” She sat in silence for a moment, thinking. “What calms you down?” she asked suddenly.

Harry turned to look at her in surprise.

“What?”

“What calms you down?” she repeated.

“Erm…I don’t know – flying?” Harry said. “Yeah, flying always makes me feel better,” he said again with more confidence. “And nights where we’re relaxing in front of the fire in the common room, like now. Draco usually plays with my hair and I feel so peaceful – like I could just fall asleep then and there.”

Sarah nodded along as he spoke. “Okay, I have an idea. Come here.” Harry looked confused but came to lie down in Sarah’s lap. She began to stroke his hair softly and his eyes fluttered closed. “Now, I want you to think about how it feels when you’re flying,” she said softly. “Think of the wind in your face, the feeling of the broomstick beneath your hands.”

Harry’s breathing slowed down and his body relaxed.

“Focus on that feeling,” Sarah continued. “ _Believe_ you are flying, just enjoying the freedom of being in the air.”

After a few minutes of this, Sarah whispered, _“Legilimens_.” She had been practising this spell for weeks and could finally do it when she was concentrating fully. It was meant to be done with eye contact but she wanted to see if she could do it when Harry was on the verge of sleep.

When she entered his mind, instead of immediately being bombarded with memories like she usually was, she found herself looking down at the Quidditch pitch, following Harry along as he flew on his broom, diving, turning, rolling. She tried pushing deeper and managed to get a glimpse of yesterday’s fight with Draco but the image quickly disappeared. She began to feel slightly ill by the constant moving of her perception so she withdrew from Harry’s mind.

His bright green eyes were blinking up at her in surprise.

“I felt you but it didn’t hurt,” he said in amazement, sitting up. “What did you see?”

“Just you flying,” Sarah replied, rubbing her temples. Harry’s flying had given her a headache. “I managed to get a brief glimpse of a memory but you quickly shoved me out.”

“Sarah! That was brilliant!” Harry exclaimed. “Can we try again?”

Sarah shook her head. “Not tonight, hun. My head’s not feeling the best.” She turned to him and smiled at his excited expression. “But that was an improvement! We know now how to clear your mind.”

Harry’s happy expression suddenly dropped. “Now I just have to manage that when working with Snape,” he said bitterly.

Sarah grabbed his hand in her own and squeezed. “Don’t worry,” she said. “We’ll keep practicing until you can do that easily. You’ll get better, I know you will.”

Slowly, a smile began to break out across Harry’s face.

“I can’t wait to tell Draco,” he said. “If he’ll talk to me, that is,” he added, frowning.

“Of course he will,” Sarah said, waving a hand. “He’s already close to giving in. He misses holding your hand too much.” Harry brightened considerably and Sarah couldn’t help but laugh.

“Now, I want you to do that again before going to sleep,” Sarah said, getting to her feet and pulling Harry up with her. “You want to get into a habit of clearing your mind before bed to help stop potential dreams.”

Harry nodded. He had his determined look on his face and Sarah knew that now they had hit a breakthrough, he would stop at nothing to succeed.

“Thank you, Sarah, for helping me,” Harry said, wrapping her up in a tight hug.

“Harry, you know I’d do anything to help you,” she replied, smiling up at him. The git had grown another few inches and was now nearly the same height as Draco. “You can buy me a butterbeer on the next Hogsmeade trip.”

Harry laughed. “You know the next one is the fourteenth right?” he said. “Valentine’s Day?” he added when she just blinked at him.

“ _Valentine’s Day_?” she shrieked. “Oh shit is it February already?” She began pacing in circles, her hands gripping her hair. “I have no idea what to get for Fred. What do I do? Harry, what are you getting Draco? No, don’t tell me – I don’t want to ruin his surprise. UGH!”

“Sarah, calm the fuck down!” shouted Harry. Sarah came to a sudden stop and dropped her arms to her sides. “Fred will love whatever you do, even if you just walked around Hogsmeade for the day.”

Sarah nodded absently. “You’re right, I don’t know why I’m stressing.” She suddenly smiled brightly and looked up at Harry. “Did I tell you that Fred told me he loves me?”

Harry’s mouth dropped open. “No! When did he say that?” he gasped.

“After our first D.A lesson,” Sarah said, smiling like an idiot. “And we’d just had the best se – “

“Nope!” said Harry, leaping forward to cover her mouth. “I do _not_ need to hear any details about what you and Fred get up to behind closed doors.”

“It’s not like its any different from what you do with Draco,” said Sarah, her words muffled by Harry’s hand. “You know Draco and I talk about this stuff all the time.”

Harry blushed and sighed in defeat, dropping his hand. “You and Draco are too close for your own good.”

Sarah smirked devilishly at him. “We give each other pointers,” she said, enjoying the way Harry’s blush got darker. “It’s _very_ enlightening.”

“Oh god, Sarah, stop, _please_ ,” begged Harry.

Sarah laughed loudly as Harry turned around, put his fingers in his ears, and began singing loudly at the top of his lungs.

She walked up to him and punched him in the air.

“Knock it off,” she said, smiling. “You sound like a dying hippogriff.” Harry pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. “Anyway, I’m tired and miss my boyfriend. So we’re going to go to Gryffindor to grab him and then all of us are going to Slytherin so you can make up with _your_ boyfriend.”

Harry didn’t stop smiling at that idea the entire way to the dungeons.

***

The Valentine’s Day Hogsmeade visit dawned sunny and frigid. The bite of winter still hadn’t dissipated, so everyone bundled up in heavy cloaks and gloves, clutching partner’s hands tightly in hope of stealing some extra warmth. One thing that Sarah was eternally grateful for was the fact that Fred was practically a human furnace. She burrowed deeper into his side and sighed happily when she immediately began to warm up. Sarah knew it was sappy, but she had stolen one of his beanies this morning. Seeing the look on his face when she had put it on had been totally worth it.

“You guys are sickening,” George teased. “If you look any more in love I fear I may start vomiting hearts.”

Sarah stuck her middle finger up at him and shot a tripping jinx at him with her other hand, laughing when he yelped and tumbled into the snow.

She and Fred walked around Hogsmeade slowly, occasionally ducking into different stores to grab something they wanted. After a while, they decided to go get a coffee from one of the newer cafes that had opened. They were both religiously avoiding Madam Puddifoot’s, a tea shop known for its elaborate decorations and sickening sweet beverages. It was apparently a popular place for couples to go, not that Sarah understood why; it was hideous and made her feel sick just looking at the various shades of pink and lilac.

Cauldron Coffees was a quaint little store with beautiful dark wood panelling along the walls and pale floorboards. Comfy armchairs with low-set tables filled the space and the intoxicating aroma of coffee beans filled the air. Sarah and Fred found a small couch in the back corner positioned next to the window, offering a gorgeous view of the snow-capped hills in the distance.

“I like this place,” Sarah murmured after they had ordered.

“We’ll have to come back then,” Fred said decidedly, absentmindedly rubbing up and down Sarah’s arm with the hand that he had thrown over her shoulders.

“Once you leave, you can meet me here,” Sarah said, leaning comfortably against Fred’s side. “I can owl you the dates of the village trips and you can come up from London.”

Fred smiled down at her and kissed her gently.

“Have you thought any more about when you’ll leave?” Sarah asked once their drinks had arrived.

Fred nodded slightly and took a sip before saying, “Our owl orders are becoming really popular and we’ve finalised a lease contract for premises in Diagon Alley.”

Sarah hummed in acknowledgement and Fred continued, “George and I were thinking that, well, if the year keeps going as it is…we might only be here for a few more months. Maybe even as early April.”

“April?” Sarah asked, setting down her drink. “So you’ve decided you’re not going to take your N.E.W.Ts?”

Fred nodded and traced patterns on Sarah’s hand absently. “Yeah,” he said softly. “We won’t need them. Honestly, the only thing keeping us here is the fact that Mum would be devastated. And of course, I’d miss you,” he added with a smile.

Sarah swatted his arm. “You can’t live for your mother or me! If you and George think that leaving soon will be the best for you, then do it. I can help soothe your mother.”

“Merlin, I love you,” Fred muttered, smiling brightly. Sarah felt the usual blush heat her face as she mumbled the words back. No matter how often Fred had begun to tell her – little whispers in her ear when she didn’t expect it, in greeting at breakfast, in goodbye before they separated for bed – she still blushed and felt a rush of warmth in her chest.

“I think we’ll end up leaving around Easter,” Fred said, nodding to himself. “Lee will be sad to see us go.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll still hang out with Lee,” Sarah said with a smirk. “He’s much cooler than you two.”

“Oi!”

Sarah giggled and kissed Fred, even though he still tried to maintain a pout. She pulled back and checked his watch. It was nearly midday.

“Come on,” she said, getting to her feet, “we promised we’d meet Hermione in the Three Broomsticks, remember?”

“Is it that time already?” Fred groaned, begrudgingly getting to his feet. He stole another kiss before Sarah swatted him away, laughing.

“Yes, it is,” she said. “And if we don’t leave now, we’ll be late.”

“I am curious as to what Hermione could be planning on Valentine’s Day,” Fred pondered as they walked back outside into the blistering cold. “Do you think she’s secretly in love with us both and plans to declare it to everyone?”

“Of course not, you git!” Sarah said, pushing Fred slightly. She immediately drew him back to her when the cold wind hit her side. “She also asked Harry to meet her. Other than that, I have no idea.”

“An orgy, wow,” Fred said in a serious tone. “I never took Hermione for the type – OUCH!”

Sarah had punched him in the arm and he pouted at her.

“That’s no way to treat the love of your life,” he lamented. “Such violence from one so small.”

“The fact that I’m smaller means I have easier access to certain sensitive body parts,” she informed him sassily, smirking as his hands immediately dropped to cover his groin. “Don’t be crude,” she chided.

He sheepishly smiled at her and grabbed her hand again. “All right, I’ll stop,” he promised as he held the door to the pub open for her. “Do you want a drink? I can go get – Blimey, is that _Rita Skeeter_?”

He gaped at the far corner where Hermione, Harry, Draco, Luna and Rita Skeeter were all sitting grouped around a table.

“You know what?” Fred announced. “I think I’m going to need something stronger than butterbeer for whatever this is going to be. I’ll meet you over there.” He kissed her cheek before disappearing toward the counter.

Sarah made her way over to the odd group and sat down in one of the free chairs.

“Hey, guys…”

“Sarah!” Hermione said in greeting, smiling brightly at the other girl. “I’m so glad you could make it. I’m sorry about cutting your date short.”

Sarah waved her apology away. “It’s no worries, ‘Mione,” she said. “I would, however, like to know what that bitch is doing here?”

“Little Miss Perfect was just about to tell me when you arrived,” said Rita, taking a large slurp of her drink. “I suppose I’m allowed to _talk_ to her, am I?” she shot at Hermione.

“Yes, I suppose you are,” said Hermione coldly.

Sarah knew she was missing something and gratefully accepted her drink from Fred when he arrived at the table. When their attention was turned, Sarah took a quick gulp of Fred’s drink and realised he had ordered a Firewhiskey.

“How’d you manage that?” she whispered to him as Hermione and Rita snapped at each other, Draco and Harry watching on in avid interest while Luna happily gazed off into space.

“Madam Rosmerta’s always had a soft spot for George and me,” Fred muttered back. “And now I’m of age it’s actually legal.”

“You still haven’t told me what I’m here for, Miss Prissy,” Rita said to Hermione. “You just told me to turn up. Oh, one of these days…” She took a deep shuddering breath.

“Yes, yes, one of these days you’ll write more horrible stories about Harry and me, maybe even throwing in Sarah and Draco just for the thrill of it,” said Hermione indifferently. “Find someone who cares, why don’t you?”

“They’ve run plenty of horrible stories about Harry and Miss Icy Bitch over here this year without my help,” said Rita, shotting a sideways look at Harry and Sarah over the top of her glass and adding in a rough whisper, “How has that made you two feel? Betrayed? Distraught? Misunderstood?”

“They feel angry of course,” said Hermione in a hard, clear voice. “Because they told the Minister of Magic the truth and the Minister’s too much of an idiot to believe them.”

“Merlin, this reminds me why I hate reporters,” Sarah muttered loudly as Rita’s eyes lit up. Draco snorted across from her as Rita shot Sarah a harsh look.

“So you actually stick to it, you know, that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back?” said Rita, lowering her glass and subjecting Harry and Sarah to a piercing stare while her finger strayed longingly to the clasp of her crocodile bag. “You stand by all this garbage Dumbledore’s been telling everybody about You-Know-Who returning and you being the sole witnesses – ?”

“We weren’t the sole witnesses,” snarled Harry. “There was a dozen-odd Death Eaters there as well. Want their names?”

“I’d love them,” breathed Rita, now fumbling in her bag once more and gazing at Harry as though he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. “A great bold headline: ‘ _Potter Accuses…’_ A subheading: _‘Harry Potter, supported by Sarah Deaumont, Names Death Eaters Still Among Us.’_ And then, beneath a nice big photo of you two: _‘Disturbed teenager survivors of You-Know-Who’s attack, Harry Potter, 15, and Sarah Deaumont, 15, caused outrage yesterday by accusing respectable and prominent members of the Wizarding community of being Death Eaters…”_

The Quick-Quotes Quill was actually in her hand and halfway to her mouth when the rapturous expression died out. Sarah grimaced at how easy it was for Rita to come up with a headline of questionable nature. Fred’s sour expression showed how much he liked the idea.

“But of course,” Rita said, lowering the quill and looking daggers at Hermione, “Little Miss Perfect wouldn’t want that story out there, would she?”

“As a matter of fact,” said Hermione sweetly, “that’s exactly what Little Miss Perfect _does_ want.”

Rita stared at her. So did Harry, Sarah, Draco and Fred. Luna, on the other hand, sang, “Weasley Is Our King” dreamily under her breath and stirred her drink with a cocktail onion on a stick.

“You _want_ me to report what they say about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?” Rita asked Hermione in a hushed voice.

“Yeah, Hermione,” Sarah hissed. “You _want_ her to?”

“Yes, I do,” said Hermione. “The true story. All the facts. Exactly as Harry and Sarah report them. They’ll give you the details, they’ll tell you the names of the undiscovered Death Eaters they saw there, they’ll tell you what Voldemort looks like now – oh, get a grip on yourself,’ she added contemptuously, throwing a napkin across the table, for at the sound of Voldemort’s name, Rita had jumped so badly that she had slopped half her glass of Firewhiskey down herself.

Rita blotted the front of her grubby raincoat, still staring at Hermione. Then she said baldly, “The _Prophet_ wouldn’t print it. In case you haven’t noticed, nobody believes his cock-and-bull story. Everyone thinks he’s delusional. You’re just lucky that _her_ name has only be mentioned once and in passing, else she would be in the same position. Now, if you let me write the story from that angle – “

“Who says we want a story anyway?” Sarah snapped suddenly. “Did _no one_ think to ask the people _directly_ involved?”

Silence met her words and Hermione wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Hermione,” Sarah said shortly. The other girl reluctantly met her eyes. “You didn’t warn me and judging by Harry’s face, you didn’t warn him either.”

“I only got Rita’s reply this morning,” said Hermione guiltily. “I didn’t want to put you on the spot but I really do think it’s the best idea.”

Draco visibly calmed himself down by pinching the top of his nose and taking a deep breath.

“We’ll talk more about this later,” he said calmly. “Right now, we need to see if Rita can actually keep her word and write a truthful article, because I agree with Hermione’s idea, it will be good to have the true story out there for everybody to read.”

Sarah nodded stiffly and sat back in her chair. Hermione and Rita began to argue about the _Prophet_ so Sarah zoned them out. She was pissed that Hermione didn’t warn her but she knew that it was a good idea. She just didn’t know how she felt about having to retell the night’s events again. She felt Fred’s warm hand rest comfortingly on her thigh and she turned to smile at him.

“My dad thinks it’s an awful paper,” said Luna, chipping into the conversation unexpectedly. Sucking on her cocktail onion, she gazed at Rita with her enormous, protuberant, slightly mad eyes. “He publishes important stories that he thinks the public needs to know. He doesn’t care about making money.”

Rita looked disparagingly at Luna.

“I’m guessing your father runs some stupid little village newsletter?” she said. “’Twenty-five Ways to Mingle with Muggles’ and the dates of the next Bring-and-Fly Sale?”

“No,” said Luna, dripping her onion back into her gillywater, “he’s the editor of _The Quibbler_.”

Rita snorted so loudly that people at a nearby table looked around in alarm.

“’Important stories he thinks the public needs to know’?” she said witheringly. “I could manure my garden with the contents of that rag?”

“Shut up,” Sarah growled slightly at Rita, fixing the woman with a malevolent glare. Rita leant back slightly in fear.

“Well, this is your chance to raise the tone of it a bit, isn’t it?” interjected Hermione pleasantly. “Luna says her father’s quite happy to take Harry and Sarah’s interview. That’s who’ll be publishing it.”

Rita stared at them both for a moment and then let out a great whoop of laughter.

“ _The Quibbler_!” she said, cackling. “You think people will take them seriously if they’re published in _The Quibbler_?”

“One more word and I’ll hex you,” Fred threatened calmly, resting his wand on the table.

“Some people won’t,” said Hermione in a level voice. “But the _Daily Prophet’s_ version of the Azkaban breakout had some gaping holes in it. I think a lot of people will be wondering whether there isn’t a better explanation of what happened, and if there’s an alternative story available, even if it is published in a” – she glanced sideways at Luna, “in a – well, an _unusual_ magazine – I think they might be rather keen to read it.”

Rita did not say anything for a while, but eyes Hermione shrewdly, her head a little to one side.

“All right, let’s say for a moment I’ll do it,” she said abruptly. “What kind of fee am I going to get?”

“I don’t think Daddy exactly pays people to write for the magazine,” said Luna dreamily. “They do it because it’s an honour, and, of course, to see their names in print.”

Rita Skeeter looked as though the taste of Stinksap was strong in her mouth again as she rounded on Hermione. “I’m supposed to do this _for free_?”

“Well, yes,” said Hermione calmly, taking a sip of her drink. “Otherwise, as you very well know, I will inform the authorities that you are an unregistered Animagus. Of course, the _Prophet_ might give you rather a lot for an insider’s account of life in Azkaban…”

Rita looked as though she would have liked nothing better than to seize the paper umbrella sticking out of Hermione’s drink and thrust it up her nose.

“I don’t suppose I’ve got any choice, have I?” said Rita, her voice shaking slightly. She opened her crocodile bag once more, withdrew a piece of parchment, and raised her Quick-Quotes Quill.

“Daddy will be pleased,” said Luna brightly. A muscle twitched in Rita’s jaw.

“Okay, Harry, Sarah?” said Hermione, turning to both of them. “Ready to tell the public the truth.”

Sarah met Harry’s eyes and grimaced.

“I suppose,” said Harry, watching Rita balancing the Quick-Quotes Quill at the ready on the parchment between them.

“I’m going to regret this,” muttered Sarah darkly. “But whatever, I guess. Go ahead, Rita, fire away.”


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Luna said vaguely that she did not know how soon Rita’s interview with Harry and Sarah would appear in _The Quibbler_ , that her father was expecting a lovely long article on recent sightings of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. “And, of course, that’ll be a very important story, so yours might have to wait for the following issue,” said Luna. Sarah just shook her head at Fred when he went to ask.

Neither Sarah nor Harry had found it an easy experience to talk about that night when Voldemort had returned. Even though Sarah had only been there for half the time Harry had, it had been horrible. Rita had pressed them for everything they could remember, knowing that this was the one big opportunity to tell the world the truth. As soon as they had returned back to the castle, they had both rushed to the Gryffindor bathrooms and heaved the contents of their stomachs into the toilets. They had then spent a miserable evening curled up on Harry’s bed, wrapped in a mountain of blankets as Fred and Draco tried to coax them to eat something. Eventually, they had fallen into an uneasy sleep, both of them waking up screaming a few hours later.

“Can’t wait to see what Umbridge thinks of you going public,” said Dean, sounding awestruck at dinner on Monday night. Seamus was shovelling down large amounts of chicken-and-ham pie on Dean’s other side, but Sarah knew he was listening.

“It’s the right thing to do,” said Neville, who was sitting opposite Harry. He was rather pale, but went on in a low voice, “It must have been…tough…talking about it…was it?”

Fred tightened his grip on Sarah’s hand. For the past few days, he had refused to leave her side.

“Yeah,” mumbled Harry, “but people have got to know what Voldemort’s capable of, haven’t they?”

“That’s right,” said Neville, nodding, “and his Death Eaters too…People should know…”

Neville left his sentence hanging with a quick glance in Sarah and Draco’s direction.

“What – er – what do you think will happen to your fathers?” Neville asked hesitantly. “I know you named them and a few others…”

Sarah sighed deeply. “I expect that they’ll be furious and will try to contact us.”

“Thankfully, Dumbledore has already taken certain precautions,” Draco added, rubbing Harry’s back slowly.

“I am slightly more worried about the Slytherins whose parents we accused who share their parent’s beliefs…” Sarah said slowly. “The common room might not be the best place to be for a while when the article comes out.”

“What about Quidditch?” Dean asked. “Aren’t most of the players sons of people you named?”

Sarah nodded. “Yep, I’m pretty sure only about two of them aren’t.”

Dean winced. “Damn, that’s going to be hard.”

Draco hummed in response. “We’re just going to have to watch our backs.”

***

The Gryffindors were dreading the upcoming Quidditch game on Saturday. Fred and George had gone to watch one of their practices and reported back that they were going to get absolutely slaughtered.

The very best thing Sarah could say about the match was that it was short; the Gryffindor spectators had to endure only twenty-two minutes of agony. It was hard to say what the worst thing was: it was a close-run contest between Ron’s fourteenth failed save, Jack Sloper missing the Bludger but hitting Angelina in the mouth with his bat and Andrew Kirke shrieking and falling backward off his broom as Zacharias Smith zoomed at him carrying the Quaffle. The miracle was that Gryffindor only lost by ten points: Ginny managed to snatch the Snitch from right under Hufflepuff Seeker Summerby’s nose, so that the final score was two hundred and forty versus two hundred and thirty. Harry, Fred and George looked extremely dejected by the end of the match and even Sarah suggesting a snowball fight failed to raise their spirits.

On Monday, they entered the Great Hall for breakfast at exactly the same moment as the post owls. Sarah helped herself to some juice, when the first owl landed with a thud in front of her, causing her to pause and glance up at it in surprise.

“Who’re you after?” she asked it, languidly removing her orange juice from underneath its beak and leaning forward to see the recipient’s name and address. With a startled blink she realised it was addressed to her. Frowning, she made to take the letter from the owl, but before she could do so, three, four, five more owls had fluttered down beside it and were jockeying for position, treading in the butter, knocking over the salt, and each attempting to give her their letters first.

“What the fuck?” Blaise asked in amazement. “I thought Dumbledore had restricted your mail?”

“Apparently they haven’t gotten to it yet,” Sarah commented idly. She reached for the cylindrical package attached to one of the owls’ leg. “Oh shit, I know what this means.”

She ripped off the brown packaging. Out rolled a tightly furled copy of March’s edition of _The Quibbler._ She unrolled it to see her own face peering up at her beside Harry’s on the front page. In large red letters across their picture were the words: **HARRY POTTER AND SARAH DEAUMONT SPEAK OUT AT LAST: THE TRUTH ABOUT HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED AND THE NIGHT HE RETURNED. _SPECIAL FIRST-HAND ACCOUNT OF HOW HARRY POTTER AND SARAH DEAUMONT FACED YOU-KNOW-WHO._**

“It’s good, isn’t it?” said Luna, who had drifted over to the Slytherin table and now squeezed herself onto the bench between Draco and Sarah, scaring the shit out of Sarah. “It came out yesterday, I asked Dad to send you a free copy. I expect all these,” she waved her hand at the assembled owls still scrabbling around on the table in front of Sarah, “are letters from readers.”

Sarah glanced up to see a similar situation happening at the Gryffindor table. Ron, Hermione, Fred and George were already ripping open letters while Harry read the article.

“Sarah, can we - ?” Pansy said eagerly, pointing at the letters.

“Go ahead,” she said weakly. She scanned through the article and saw that Rita had included everything she and Harry had said, nearly word for word.

“This woman recommends you try a good course of Shock Spells at St Mungo’s,” said Pansy, looking amused as she crumpled up the paper.

“This one looks okay, though,” said Millicent. “She says she believes you both.”

“This one’s in two minds,” said Blaise. “Says you don’t come across as a mad person, but he really doesn’t want to believe You-Know-Who’s back so he doesn’t know what to think…What a waste of parchment…”

“Here’s another one you’ve convinced, Sarah!” Draco said excitedly. “Having read your sides of the story I am forced to the conclusion that the _Daily Prophet_ has treated you very unfairly…Little though I want to think that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned, I am forced to accept that you both are telling the truth…’ That’s brilliant!”

“Another one who thinks you’re both barking,” said Theo, throwing a crumpled letter over his shoulder, “but this one says you’ve got her converted, and she included a photo for Harry – oh, wow – “

“Sarah, there’s another one coming,” Pansy said, pointing to the ceiling.

Sarah looked up and immediately felt her face lose all its colour.

“Why couldn’t Dumbledore have finished those wards?” she said quietly.

Everyone looked up at her words and frowned.

“What - ?”

“Oh shit,” said Draco, recognition lighting his grey eyes. “That’s your father’s owl isn’t it?”

Sarah nodded weakly and watched as the owl landed heavily in front of her, a letter clutched in its beak. It dropped it and hooted irritably at her. Pansy shooed it away and then gasped as she saw the red letter smoking on the table.

“Sarah…”

“No, leave it,” she said. “I want to hear it.”

She reached forward and slit it open, flinching in preparation for the barrage of sound. However, instead of the deafening shouts she was expecting, a single sentence emitted from the letter, loud enough for everyone to hear but said in a deathly whisper.

“ _You have dishonoured me one too many times,”_ the voice said. Heads turned in her direction at the unusual Howler. “ _You will pay with your life.”_ The letter burnt itself out and the ashes fell to the table.

“Miss Deaumont.”

A voice suddenly sounded from behind Blaise and Pansy. Sarah looked up to see Professor Umbridge glaring down at her.

“How – how _dare_ you,” the professor whispered. She was holding a copy of _The Quibbler_ close to her pink-clad chest. “You and Mr Potter will be having another week’s worth of detentions with me for this. And fifty points from Slytherin, Miss Deaumont.”

“Brilliant, your office, five o’clock right?” Sarah said sarcastically. “My scar’s become a bit dull and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Professor Umbridge gaped at her as she stood and slung her bag over her shoulder. Before she left, she marched up to the teacher’s table and said to Dumbledore, “Your wards didn’t work, Professor. My father managed to send me a letter. I’d appreciate it if you fixed that.”

And then she spun on her heel and left the Hall.

***

By midmorning, enormous signs had been put up all over the school, not just on House notice boards, but in the corridors and classrooms too. It was another Educational Decree stating that anyone found in possession of _The Quibbler_ would be expelled.

Whenever Sarah caught sight of one of these, she would beam excitedly. Umbridge had just ensured that every single person in the school would read the interview by banning it. She was right. By the end of the say, the whole school seemed to be quoting the interview at each other, whispering about Harry’s fight with Voldemort.

Everyone she knew was bombarded with questions surrounding the article and Draco had eventually had to put up an ongoing _protego_ just so they could get to class. Meanwhile, Professor Umbridge was stalking the school, stopping students at random and demanding that they turn out their books and pockets. Sarah knew she was looking for copies of the magazine but the students were several steps ahead of her. The pages carrying the interview had been bewitched to resemble extracts from textbooks if anyone but themselves read it, or else wiped magically blank until they wanted to peruse it again. Soon it seemed that every single person in the school had read it.

The teachers were, of course, forbidden from mentioning the interview by Educational Decree Number Twenty-six, but they found ways to express their feelings about it all the same. Professor Sprout awarded Slytherin twenty points when Sarah handed her a bag of fertiliser; a beaming Professor Flitwick pressed a box of speaking sugar mice on her at the end of Charms, said ” _Shh!_ ” and hurried away; and Professor Babbling refrained from giving them homework for the rest of the week.

“What I’m curious about,” Sarah said suddenly that afternoon as her, Draco, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Fred and George worked in front of the fire, “is why my father even took me to the graveyard in the first place.”

Harry’s head shot up. “I – I never thought about that before…” he said slowly.

“It’s been in the back of my mind for months,” admitted Sarah. “I just never let myself think too much about it.”

“Does he need a reason?” Ron asked, scribbling harshly on his parchment. “He’s a crazy bastard.”

“That he is,” conceded Sarah, frowning slightly. “But he never does something without a reason.”

“Well, maybe neither of us were meant to leave the graveyard,” Harry said darkly. “I know I definitely wasn’t.”

“Well, we knew that,” Sarah said. “But why _me?_ Why not bring Draco as well? His father was there and it’s not like he hasn’t disappointed the Malfoy name. No offence, darling,” she added to the blond.

“None taken, it’s true,” he said with a thoughtful expression on his face. “You think there was another reason you were taken?”

Sarah nodded. “They didn’t outright kill me,” she said. “Voldemort told my father he could do the honours to torture me _first_. It’s like they planned to keep it going a while longer. But if that’s all they wanted to do, why bring me there in the first place? Why not just take me to a secluded location and leave me there?”

Hermione frowned. “He may have wanted your blood,” she said suddenly. Sarah blinked at her in surprise and she added, “You have Potter blood in you technically, very diluted mind you, but it’s still there. Maybe Voldemort thought it would enhance whatever he wanted to achieve if he used your blood as well. In the end, it didn’t matter.”

“But he needed to break through Lily’s protection,” countered Sarah. “My blood would have been useless. Besides, the Death Eaters only arrived _after_ Voldemort had been reborn. The ceremony was already done.”

“It doesn’t matter why you were brought there anymore,” Fred said suddenly. His face was grave. “You escaped – both of you. Let’s not think about the past. Let’s just focus on the future, okay?”

Sarah reluctantly let the topic go but didn’t stop thinking about it all throughout her and Harry’s detention with Umbridge that night.

***

The term began to pass extremely quickly, each week bringing a new level of control for the Ministry. Professor Trelawny was publicly sacked by Umbridge one evening, her distraught screams still echoing off the stone walls hours after Dumbledore had stepped in to keep her in the castle. A centaur named Firenze – the same one who had rescued Sarah and Harry in the forest in their first year – replaced Professor Trelawny as Divination professor. Umbridge was furious and had enacted another Educational Degree, tightening the Ministry’s lease around Hogwarts.

Harry’s Occlumency lessons with Snape were as bad as ever. Every Monday night he returned to one of the common rooms shaking and pale. Sarah and Draco would spend countless hours calming him down and helping him clear his mind before bed.

The fifth years’ workload was also increasing as O.W.Ls drew steadily closer. Every afternoon found large groups of fifth and seventh years piled into the library, stacks of books hiding each other from view, the only sounds being the scratch of quills on parchment. Harry and Sarah had hardly found any time to make a lesson plan for patronuses, so Harry kept pushing it further and further back.

Quidditch practice had also amped up again. Slytherin managed to destroy Ravenclaw in their most recent game, keeping their lead in the Quidditch Cup. This, however, meant that Warrington was calling for nearly daily practices to prepare them for their game against Hufflepuff; the one which would determine who would win the Quidditch Cup. The team was furious at Sarah and Harry for naming their fathers as Death Eaters, so each practice session was full of hissed threats and glares. Sarah and Draco found themselves collapsing into seats in the library late after practice, groggily pulling various texts towards them to work on the countless essays, spells and translations they had to complete.

Umbridge was now attending every Care of Magical Creatures lesson, looking for an opportunity to fire Hagrid. Thankfully, he was following the approved curriculum. After his disastrous first lesson back – where he had shown them Thestrals and Umbridge had arrived and mocked him for being a half-wit – he had been careful to avoid provoking the Defense teacher, as he was already on probation.

Finally, a few weeks before Easter break, Sarah and Harry managed to start the D.A working on patronuses. Everyone eagerly threw themselves into practice, and before long, silvery animals were bursting from wands all around the room. To Sarah’s immense surprise, the first time she had gone to demonstrate, a burst of silver light blinded her.

“See that’s what a – “ Harry had cut off and gaped at her wand. Instead of her usual shimmery mist, a sleek, shining Lynx stalked around the floors, brushing its non-existent body against her legs.

“Sarah – you did it!” shouted had Draco, his grey eyes wide. “You fucking did it!”

Shouts and cheers had erupted around the room and she felt someone wrap her in a hug. However, she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off the Lynx sitting calmly in front of her, mouth slightly turned up as if in a smirk.

“Sarah? What is it?” Hermione had asked her quietly when the others had all gone to practice.

“My mother,” she had whispered. “Remus said my mother’s Animagus form was a Lynx.”

Hermione’s brown eyes had widened and she stared alongside Sarah at the beautiful creature making its way across the room.

“She’s always been with you,” Hermione had stated quietly. “Now she’ll always protect you from darkness.”

Her words still rung in Sarah’s head whenever she produced her patronus and she couldn’t help but smile. It had been a few weeks since that moment and now nearly every single member of the D.A could produce a corporeal patronus. It had gotten Sarah thinking about what her Animagus form would be when she eventually managed it. She was in the last stage: mediation. Every night she sat and tried to imagine herself changing form. She thought she had nearly gotten it; occasionally she felt a shift somewhere deep inside her and knew that soon, she would transform successfully.

“Dobby?” Harry’s voice brought her back to reality. “What’s wrong?”

“Harry Potter, sir…Dobby has come to warn you…she…she…” squeaked the elf, shaking violently. He tried to hit himself in the nose and Harry grabbed his tiny arm.

“Who is ‘she’, Dobby?” Harry asked. But Sarah interrupted and said quickly.

“Dobby is it Umbridge? Does she know about the D.A?”

Dobby looked up at her with tear-filled green eyes and nodded. There was a beat of silence before Draco bellowed, “WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? RUN!”

They all pelted toward the exit at once, forming a scrum at the door, then people burst through; Sarah could hear them sprinting down the corridor.

“Go! Go! GO!” shouted Sarah, pushing people toward the door.

“Harry, come on!” shrieked Hermione from somewhere. Harry was still struggling with Dobby, who was trying to do himself serious injury.

Sarah was about to run to the door when the parchment with their names on it caught her eye. She swore and ran toward it, ripping it off the wall. The sticking charm used on the top meant that the paper tore loudly, ‘Dumbledore’s Army’ proclaimed clear as day on the remaining sliver of paper.

“Sarah!” Fred shouted from the doorway. He was holding the door open for her holding out one arm. Only Harry and Draco were left and the three of them sprinted for the entrance, splitting up once they were in the corridor.

Fred immediately drew her down a dead-end and pushed her into an alcove, covering her body with his. Loud footsteps sounded nearby as Fred crashed his lips to hers, hurriedly messing up her clothes. Sarah cottoned on to what he was doing and thrust her hands into his hair, causing it to stick up in all directions.

The footsteps stopped suddenly and a voice said, “Er – sorry – uh…”

Fred drew back and Sarah looked over his shoulder to see Goyle standing in the corridor, staring dumbly at them. She was glad for Fred’s quick thinking; their flushed faces from sprinting made it look like they had been enjoying quite a good snog.

“Goyle,” Sarah said cordially. “Is there something we can do for you?”

Goyle blinked and looked over his shoulder quickly.

“You should leave,” he said unexpectedly. “Umbridge is trying to round up students. She got told about your club.”

Sarah blinked in shock.

“What - ?”

“Go!” Goyle said, gesturing toward the entrance of the corridor. “And don’t get caught.”

Fred didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Sarah’s arm and tugged her down the corridor, As they turned the corner and entered one of the passages behind a tapestry, Sarah heard a voice call, “Greg! Did you find anyone?”

Goyle’s deep voice called back in a grunt, “No. No one’s here.”

Sarah didn’t stop to think about why Goyle had let them go. She and Fred raced through the portrait hole and dived into the common room. Groups of people were panting and gasping for breath.

“Get to your dorm or the bathroom!” shouted Sarah. “Or grab some homework. Cast some cooling charms. You need to cover up the fact you’ve been running. Quick!”

Immediately, people jumped into action. Some sat by the fire and grabbed random textbooks while others hot cooling and cleaning charms at anybody in sight. Others disappeared up the stairs or through the bathroom door and within minutes, the common room looked completely normal.

Sarah passed a group of confused first and second years and held her finger up to her lips in a shushing gesture as she and Fred hurried towards the steps leading to the boy’s dormitory. George and Lee were playing a game of Exploding Snap on the floor between their beds and Sarah and Fred threw themselves next to them, grabbing up some cards.

Distantly, Sarah heard the portrait hold open and shrill voices asking questions. Footsteps stomped up and down the steps and doors were opened and closed. They all looked up in confusion as their door was pushed open and Warrington stuck his head in.

“You’re looking a bit flustered, Deaumont, care to explain why?” he sneered.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” she drawled. “But this is what you look like after a good snog with your boyfriend.”

Warrington narrowed his eyes but Lee quickly spoke up, “What are you doing here anyway, Warrington? This is a Gryffindor dorm. Get out.”

“Orders of the High Inquisitor,” he said stiffly.

“Well, piss off, you’re stinking up the room,” George snapped, turning back to the game.

Warrington scowled deeply but left, muttering a quick, “You’d better watch out for yourselves” as he left.

Sarah sighed deeply once his footsteps had retreated back downstairs.

“I sure hope everyone got out okay,” she said as she rested against Fred.

***

“What do you mean _Dumbledore’s gone_?” hissed Sarah the next morning at breakfast. Predictably, Harry had gotten caught by Crabbe as he ran from the Room of Requirement. He had been taken to Dumbledore’s office where Umbridge gleefully waved the torn strip of the member list and announced to Fudge and a variety of Ministry wizards, that Harry was planning to fight against the Ministry. Dumbledore had stepped in and said that it had all been his idea. And then he had vanished.

“He can’t be gone,” Draco said weakly. “Umbridge _cannot_ be headmistress.”

“She is,” muttered Harry darkly. “Fudge said so last night.”

“But this is horrible,” Hermione said in a hushed voice. “It’s completely unprecede – “

“ _Hem, hem_.”

Hermione froze mid-word and slowly looked behind Harry. Sarah felt her blood run cold as she turned around to find Umbridge smiling down at them.

“Miss Deaumont, Mr Malfoy, students are not permitted to sit anywhere other than their own House tables,” said Umbridge in a sickly-sweet voice. “Kindly move back to the Slytherin table or I shall be forced to put you in detention.”

Sarah and Draco glowered at her but collected their bags.

“We’ll see you in class,” Draco muttered to the others before leading the way back to the Slytherin table.

Theo looked up in surprise when they dropped into the seats opposite him.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“Umbridge says we have to only sit at House tables now,” Draco explained sourly. “I expect it’s another one of her ridiculous Educational Decrees.”

“Don’t let me hear you say that again, Malfoy,” Crabbe’s voice suddenly said. He, Goyle, Tracey Davis and Cassius Warrington were smirking at the three of them from further down the table. “Or I’ll put you in detention. You know what? I think I’ll take five points from Gryffindor for that comment. I’d take it from you if you weren’t in Slytherin but your boyfriend’s House will work fine.”

“What the fuck are you doing, Crabbe?” snapped Sarah. “You’re not a Prefect, you can’t take points.”

“Ah, but I can,” sneered Crabbe. “Headmistress Umbridge has honoured us with making us members of the Inquisitorial Squad.”

“That’s not a real thing,” said Sarah flatly.

“You’ll find it is,” said Warrington. “And just for that, I think another five points from Gryffindor is in order.”

Sarah growled softly but Draco put a hand on her arm.

“Leave it,” he said softly. Sarah reluctantly snapped her jaw shut and turned away from the other Slytherins.

“Yes,” sneered Crabbe. “Be a good little bitch.”

“Detention, Mr Crabbe.” Snape’s soft voice suddenly reached them. He had appeared in between the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables without any of them noticing. He turned his dark eyes on them all. “Off to class. Now.” Sarah and Draco stood, Theo eyeing them worriedly across the table. “Mr Malfoy, Miss Deaumont, Mr Nott, a word.”

Crabbe and Warrington leered at them as they stood waiting for Professor Snape to speak. He peered at them all critically and then abruptly said, “Be on your guard. All of you. Dumbledore’s absence may cause some people to develop a newfound sense of safety. Keep your eyes open and your wits about you.” Sarah, Draco and Theo blinked up at their professor in shock as he nodded once and spun around, stalking away.

“That was unusual,” Theo commented, frowning slightly. “Honestly, I just can’t wait for this year to be over. I’m curious about what next year will bring.”

“Don’t jinx it, Theo,” murmured Sarah. “I have a feeling this is only the beginning.”


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Harry was fuming as he made his way to Umbridge’s office. Ever since Filch had stopped him on his way to lunch, he was going over every possible reason as to why Umbridge wanted to see him. Knowing her, it was probably to gloat about her new position and most likely give him more detentions. The sentence “ _I must not tell lies_ ” was now permanently etched on the back of his hand, the letters stark white against his pale skin.

“Sit,” said Umbridge curtly after Harry had knocked on her office door. She pointed at a chair, and Harry sat. She continued to scribble on a piece of parchment for a few moments. Harry watched some of the foul kittens gambolling around the plates over her head, wondering what fresh horror she had in store for him.

“Well now,” she said finally, setting down her quill and looking like a toad about to swallow a particularly juicy fly. “What would you like to drink?”

“What?” said Harry, quite sure he had misheard her.

“To drink, Mr Potter,” she said, smiling still more widely. “Tea? Coffee? Pumpkin juice?”

As she named each drink, she gave her short wand a wave and a cup or glass of it appeared upon her desk.

“Nothing, thank you,” said Harry.

“I wish you to have a drink with me,” she said, her voice becoming more dangerously sweet. “Choose one.”

“Fine…tea then,” said Harry, shrugging.

She got up and made quite a performance of adding milk with her back to him. She then bustled around the desk with it, smiling in sinisterly sweet fashion.

“There,” she said, handing it to him. “Drink it before it gets cold, won’t you? Well, now, Mr Potter…I thought we ought to have a little chat, after the distressing events of last night.”

He said nothing. She settled herself back into her seat and waited. When several long moments had passed in silence, she said gaily, “You’re not drinking up!”

He raised the cup to his lips and then, just as suddenly, lowered it. It had just occurred to Harry what Draco would say if he heard that Harry had drunk something offered by a known enemy. He would probably make some sarcastic comment about Harry’s stupidity and then wack him over the head before going on a rant about liquid poisons and dumbass boyfriends.

“What’s the matter?” said Umbridge, who was still watching him. “Do you want sugar?”

Harry knew for certain now that something was not right. However, all he said was, “No,” before he raised the cup to his lips again and pretended to take a sip, though keeping his mouth tightly closed. Umbridge’s smile widened.

“Good,” she whispered. “Very good. Now then…” she leaned forward a little. “ _Where is Albus Dumbledore?”_

“No idea,” said Harry promptly.

“Drink up, drink up,” she said, still smiling. “Now, Mr Potter, let us not play childish games. I know that you know where he has gone. You and Dumbledore have been in this together from the beginning. Consider your position, Mr Potter…”

Harry scoffed internally.

“I don’t know where he is.”

He pretended to drink again.

“Very well,” said Umbridge, looking displeased. “In that case, you will kindly tell me the whereabouts of Sirius Black.”

Harry’s stomach turned over and his hand holding the teacup shook so that the cup rattled in its saucer. He tilted the cup to his mouth with his lips pressed together so that some of the hot liquid trickled down onto his robes.

“I don’t know,” he said a little too quickly.

“Mr Potter,” said Umbridge, “let me remind you that it was I who almost caught the criminal Black in the Gryffindor fire in October. I know perfectly well it was you he was meeting and if I had had any proof neither of you would be at large today, I promise you. I repeat, Mr Potter…Where is Sirius Black?”

Harry cringed to himself remembering that night. Sirius had tried to contact them because their owls were being intercepted and had nearly been caught by Umbridge’s hand scrabbling through the fire.

“No idea,” said Harry loudly. “Haven’t got a clue.”

They stared at each other so long that Harry felt his eyes watering. Then she stood up.

“Very well, Potter, I will take your word for it this time. Perhaps I will need to have a chat with Miss Deaumont or Mr Malfoy. But be warned: all channels of communication in and out of this school are being monitored. If I find a shred of evidence…”

 _BOOM_!

The very floor of the office shook; Umbridge slipped sideways, clutching her desk for support, looking shocked.

“What was - ?”

She was gazing toward the door; Harry took the opportunity to empty his almost full cup of tea into the nearest vase of dried flowers. He could hear people running and screaming several floors below.

“Back to lunch with you, Potter!” cried Umbridge, raising her wand and dashing out of the office. Harry gave her a few seconds’ start then hurried after her to see what the source of all the uproar was.

It was not difficult to find. One floor down, pandemonium reigned. Somebody (and Harry had a shrewd idea who) had set off what seemed to be an enormous crate of enchanted fireworks.

Dragons comprised entirely of green-and-gold sparks were soaring up and down the corridors, emitting loud fiery blasts and bangs as they went. Shocking pink Catherin wheels five feet in diameter were whizzing lethally through the air like so many flying saucers. Rockets with long tails of brilliant silver stars were ricocheting off the walls. Sparklers were writing swearwords in midair of their own accord. Firecrackers were exploding like mines everywhere Harry looked, and instead of burning themselves out, fading from sight, or fizzling to a halt, these pyrotechnical miracles seemed to be gaining in energy and momentum the longer he watched.

Filch and Umbridge were standing, apparently transfixed with horror, halfway down the stairs. As Harry watched, one of the larger Catherin wheels seemed to decide that what it need was more room to manoeuvre; it whirled toward Umbridge and Filch with a sinister _wheeeeeeee_. Both adults yelled with fright and ducked and it soared straight out of the window behind them and off across the grounds. Meanwhile, several of the dragons and a large purple bat that was smoking ominously took advantage of the open door at the end of the corridor to escape toward the second floor.

“Hurry, Filch, hurry!” shrieked Umbridge. “They’ll be all over the school unless we do something – _Stupefy!”_

A jet of red light shot out of the end of her wand and hit one of the rockets. Instead of freezing in midair, it exploded with such force that it blasted a hole in a painting of a soppy-looking witch in the middle of a meadow – she ran for it just in time, reappearing seconds later squashed into the painting next door, where a couple of wizards playing cards stood up hastily to make room for her.

“Don’t Stun them, Filch!” shouted Umbridge angrily, for all the world as though it had been his suggestion.

“Right you are, Headmistress!” wheezed Filch, who was a Squib and could no more have Stunned the fireworks than swallowed them. He dashed to a nearby cupboard, pulled out a broom, and began swatting at the fireworks in midair; within seconds the head of the broom was ablaze.

Harry had seen enough. Laughing, he ducked down low, ran to a door she knew was concealed behind a tapestry a little way along the corridor and slipped through it to find Fred, George and Sarah hiding just behind it, listening to Umbridge’s and Filch’s yells and quaking with suppressed mirth.

“Hey, Harry,” giggled Sarah, her aquamarine eyes bright.

“Impressive,” Harry said to the twins quietly, grinning. “Very impressive…You’ll put Dr Filibuster out of business, no problem…”

“Cheers,” whispered George, wiping tears of laughter from his face. “Oh, I hope she tries Vanishing them next…They multiply by ten every time you try…”

“Did you know about this?” Harry asked Sarah. He noticed that she was gripping Fred’s hand very tightly and Fred himself couldn’t seem to stop looking at her, a slightly melancholy look on his face.

Sarah shook her head and repressed another giggle.

“Nope, I just found out,” she replied, smiling brightly. She really was gorgeous when she was unrestrainedly happy. Harry could understand how Fred had fallen so easily for her. Harry smiled to himself when he realised that the expression of Sarah’s face was identical to the one Draco made when he was overjoyed.

The fireworks continued to burn and to spread all over the school that afternoon. Though they caused plenty of disruption, particularly the firecrackers, the other teachers not seem to mind them very much.

“Dear, dear,” said Professor McGonagall sardonically, as one of the dragons soared around her classroom, emitting loud bangs and exhaling flames. “Miss Brown, would you mind running along to the headmistress and informing her that we have an escaped firework in our classroom?”

The upshot of it all was that Professor Umbridge spent her first afternoon as headmistress running all over the school answering the summonses of the other teachers, none of whom seemed able to rid their rooms of the fireworks without her. When the final bell rang and the students were heading back to Gryffindor Tower with their bags, Harry saw, with immense satisfaction, a dishevelled and soot-blackened Umbridge tottering sweaty-faced from Professor Flitwick’s classroom.

“Thank you so much, Professor!” said Professor Flitwick in his squeaky little voice. “I could have got rid of the sparklers myself, of course, but I wasn’t sure whether I had the _authority_ …”

Beaming, he closed his classroom door in her snarling face.

Fred and George were heroes that night in the Gryffindor common room. Even Hermione fought her way through the excited crowd around them to congratulate them.

“They were wonderful fireworks,” she said admiringly.

“Thanks,” said George, looking both surprised and pleased. “Weasley’s Wildfire Whiz-Bangs. Only thing is, we used our whole stock, we’re going to have to start again from scratch now…”

“Honestly, we wouldn’t have been able to finish them so soon if Sarah hadn’t helped us with the ignition charms,” Fred said, gazing down lovingly at his girlfriend.

The girl in question blushed bright red and swatted Fred’s arm. “It was only a few charms, shut up.”

Draco laughed from beside Harry and he turned to see the blond staring fondly at his best friend. Suddenly, silver eyes met Harry’s in question.

“Everything all right?” Draco asked.

Harry smiled widely. “Everything’s perfect,” he said.

Draco smiled at him, still looking slightly confused. Harry suddenly grabbed his hand.

“Come on,” he said quietly. “I need to talk to you.

He tugged Draco toward the boy’s staircase and didn’t miss how Sarah wiggled her eyebrows at them. Harry shot her the finger in response.

“What did you need to talk about?” Draco asked once they were securely situated on Harry’s beds, the hangings drawn and closed.

“I think Umbridge tried to dose me with Veritaserum when she called me to her office earlier,” Harry announced.

“ _What?_ ” cried Draco.

“Yeah,” said Harry. “She was really insistent on me having a drink. I didn’t, don’t worry!” he added when Draco’s eyes widened comically. “I thought about how you would react if I drank something from someone we hated.”

“I would have smacked you over the head for being such an idiot!” barked Draco.

Harry smiled widely, mentally congratulating himself for knowing his boyfriend so well.

“She wanted to know here Dumbledore and Sirius were,” revealed Harry. “She was interrupted before she could realise I wasn’t drinking the tea.”

Draco frowned. “She could get in a lot of trouble for that if the Minister found out.” His eyes suddenly began to sparkle. “I wonder what would happen if he got an anonymous tip about her teaching methods,” Draco said evilly. “I mean, a blood quill is _illegal_.”

“Don’t do anything, love,” Harry said quickly. “There’s no point. She didn’t find out anything and I’ve been getting better at avoiding detention.”

“Thank goodness for small mercies,” muttered Draco.

Harry grinned and leaned forward to peck Draco on the cheek quickly. The other boy blushed and smiled to himself.

“Was that all you needed to tell me?” asked Draco, leaning down to get comfortable on the bed. “Because you could have told me that downstairs, there was no reason to drag me up here like a _heathen_ – “

Harry cut him off with a firm kiss. Draco gasped slightly and Harry quickly pushed his tongue forward, moving one hand to grip Draco’s jaw. Draco groaned slightly and grabbed Harry’s waist, pulling him up and over until he was straddling the other boy. Harry deepened the kiss and snaked one hand up into Draco’s silky hair. They began to rock together and soon descended into a mess of shedding clothes and hurried kisses.

They didn’t get to do this very often and revelled in discovering each other’s bodies anew each other. Harry carefully prepared Draco at his insistence and was soon sliding into the other boy’s body, both of them letting out low groans. They knew each other so well that all it took was simply touches from Draco for Harry to collapse in a panting mess, moving frenetically hoping to last longer than his boyfriend so he could watch the other’s face.

It wasn’t long before Draco was gasping his name and tightening his grip around Harry’s shoulders. Harry kept moving, wringing out every last bit of pleasure before he too fell over the edge, shuddering and collapsing on top of Draco’s heaving chest, not even caring about the wet spot in between them.

“Fuck, we need to do that more often,” panted Draco, absently winding a hand through Harry’s thick curls.

Harry grunted in agreement and reluctantly rolled off Draco, falling in a heap on his side. Draco reached over for his wand to clean them up and then tugged the covers over them both.

“I guess we’re not going back downstairs,” he smirked as he curled up against Harry.

“Don’t even think about it,” replied Harry. He wrapped his arms around Draco and rested his head against the other boy’s, the pale strands tickling his nose.

“Let’s just never leave,” Draco sighed. “Let’s just stay in bed all the time.”

Harry hummed and muttered, “You’d get angsty about exams in minutes.”

“Fine then,” huffed Draco. “This summer we’ll spend all day in bed and make Kreacher bring us meals.”

“If he’ll listen,” scoffed Harry.

“Of course he’ll listen,” Draco said. “I’m technically a Black and he has to listen to any orders from the family – “ Draco’s eyes suddenly widened. “Shit! I forgot to tell you!”

“What?” Harry said in concern.

“You remember when Kreacher disappeared over Christmas and wouldn’t respond to Sirius’ summons?” Draco asked, propping himself up to look at Harry.

“Yes, but what does that - ?”

“I went to check _who_ Kreacher could take orders from after you made the comment that he might have thought Sirius was kicking him out of the house,” Draco explained.

“But Sirius said he couldn’t go anywhere, there wasn’t anyone else he could take orders from?” Harry said.

Draco shook his head. “There was – me and _my mother_.”

Harry’s own eyes widened in response. “You don’t mean - ?”

Draco nodded quickly. “I was worried that Kreacher had taken Sirius’ order literally and had left Grimmauld Place and gone to the Manor. Because, as you know, only myself or my mother could officially give him orders.”

“What did you find out?” Harry asked. He knew that Draco wouldn’t have stopped until he had gotten an answer.

“I sent my mother an owl,” Draco said in a rush. “Luckily, I caught her on a day that father was out doing business. She said that Kreacher _had_ appeared to her during breakfast and that father was most curious about him. She managed to say that he was Great-Aunt Walburga’s elf and was probably looking for a master. Thankfully, father soon dismissed him.” Draco’s face was pinched as he continued, “Harry, I don’t think we can trust Kreacher anymore.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s obviously okay with finding other members of the Black family to take orders from,” Draco pointed out. “And Bellatrix has just escaped Azkaban. Technically, this means that Kreacher could go to her and she’d be able to order him to reveal everything he knows. The only thing he can’t tell her is where Grimmauld is located because he’s not Secret Keeper.”

Harry was thinking quickly now.

“What do we do?” he said. “We need to warn Sirius. What if Kreacher has been relaying everything they talk about in Order meetings?”

Draco nodded. “I had completely forgotten about it until just then or else I would have warned Remus and Sirius months ago.”

“It’s okay, love,” Harry said, kissing Draco quickly. “We’ll send them a letter tomorrow.”

“But Umbridge is watching all the letters,” Draco countered. “How could we warn them without alerting Umbridge?”

Harry frowned. “We’re just going to have to figure out a way to contact them through unofficial channels.”

“We can worry about that tomorrow,” Draco said decisively. He curled back up against Harry’s chest. “I’m sorry for spoiling the mood.”

“Babe, I’d prefer you to suddenly remember something important like that than to not think about it at all,” Harry said, grinning and pulling Draco closer. “I love your genius moments.”

Harry could feel Draco grinning against his skin.

***

Sarah stared at Harry in shock. He had found her in the library as she tried to work through a potions essay and dropped the bomb that Snape had cancelled all their future Occlumency lessons.

“And you managed that how?” she repeated flatly. Honestly, she really had hoped the first time he had told her, he had been joking.

“I – er – may have looked into a Pensieve full of his memories…” Harry said weakly.

Alas, he had not.

“Why the _fuck_ would you think that was a good idea?” she hissed, glancing around to make sure Madam Pince wasn’t near them.

“I didn’t think!” whisper-cried Harry. “But that’s not the point here, Sarah. I…I saw my dad and he wasn’t, well, he was a bully.”

Harry explained how he had seen James and Sirius ganging up on Snape, only to be interrupted by Lily.

“And then Snape called her a Mudblood?” Sarah whispered in horror. “That’s _awful_.”

Harry nodded sadly.

“What’s wrong, Harry?” Sarah asked after a few minutes of silence. “Something else is obviously eating at you.”

Harry sighed deeply and, still without looking at her, muttered, “For years I’ve idolised my dad. Everyone always told me how great of a person he was – how brave, how smart. But now…Now, I know he was a bully.” Harry suddenly turned to face her, his green eyes sparkling behind his glasses. “He and Sirius didn’t have a reason to attack Snape. And – and the worst thing is, is that that sort of thing had happened to me before. It’s _horrible_ , Sarah. Feeling like you have no power against them. I – “

He cut off and dropped his head into his hands.

“Harry…” Sarah said softly, placing a hand on his arm. “People do idiotic things when they’re fifteen. But they also have the potential to change.” Harry looked up at her slowly and she tried smiling comfortingly at him. “Your mother seemed like a lovely person. She never would have married your father if he hadn’t grown into a better person. You have to believe that he _matured_ , just like all of us will. Don’t let the image of who he _was_ taint the image of who he _became_.”

Harry had dropped his hands away from his face and his eyes looked less vulnerable now.

“If it really worries you,” continued Sarah. “Contact Remus and Sirius. Get the full story from them. I know that he must have been a good person or else my mother never would have been friends with him.”

Harry nodded. “I really want to talk to Sirius but I can’t,” he said miserably.

“Didn’t he give you something before the start of term?” Sarah recalled. “You never showed us what it was.”

Harry suddenly swore. “That’s because I forgot about it! I haven’t even opened it.”

“Well, go look for it,” suggested Sarah. “Maybe you’ll find the answers you need. But Harry,” she added when the other boy stood up with a determined look on his face, “don’t forget what I said. Your father was a different person at twenty than at fifteen.”

Harry nodded and kissed her forehead quickly before hurrying out of the library, leaving Sarah to turn back to her essay.

“Sarah D-Deaumont?”

A small first year had appeared beside her, shaking slightly, his large brown eyes wide in awe.

“Yes?”

“Professor Snape told me to give this to you,” he squeaked. He thrust a rolled parchment at her and then ran away, leaving Sarah to look after him in bemusement.

She opened the parchment to see it was an updated time for the Career Advice meeting. Snape had changed it from tomorrow to today and in five minutes.

“Bloody fucking wanker,” Sarah muttered as she quickly packed up her stuff and practically ran out of the library. The meeting was in his office all in the way in the dungeons meaning that Sarah had to sprint down four floors to get there in time.

“So kind of you to make an appearance, Miss Deaumont,” Snape drawled as she entered his office, panting for breath.

“Next time, give me some warning so I don’t have to sprint across half the school, sir,” she said, collecting herself and dropping into the seat in front of the desk. “So, why the sudden change?”

Snape peered at her, unimpressed. “Despite your lack of manners, Deaumont…” He glanced pointedly at the door she had left open. A flick of his wand slammed it close. “A scheduling clash occurred, if you must know.”

Sarah huffed and crossed one leg over the other. “You pulled me away from my Potions essay, sir,” she said, just to be problematic.

Snape clicked his tongue and spread out a variety of pamphlets on his desk. His demeanour changed slightly from ‘Professor Snape’ to ‘Severus’.

“Not my problem,” he said shortly. “Career advice, however, unfortunately is. Do you have any idea what you want to pursue after school or are you like the majority of other imbeciles who barely know one end of their wand from the other?”

“Harsh, Sev,” Sarah tutted. She leant forward and tapped the Healer’s pamphlet. “Healer, of course,” she said. “Unless somehow my two years of working with Madam Pomfrey alluded to a different outcome…?”

“Cut the sass, Sarah,” warned Severus, “and _don’t_ call me, Sev.”

“Whatever you say, Sev,” smirked Sarah. Severus rolled his eyes at her and tapped the pamphlet with his wand, causing it to unfold and highlight certain pieces of information.

“For Healing, you’ll need top marks,” he explained. “This means Outstandings in all your O.W.Ls and N.E.W.Ts. I believe they will accept some Exceeds Expectations but it is preferable to have O’s.”

Sarah nodded along with his words, already knowing this. “Any particular subjects I need?” she asked.

“Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, and Herbology are required to apply,” listed Severus. “Having Ancient Runes, History of Magic and Defense will be beneficial but not absolutely necessary. You could potentially drop those subjects to focus on the other N.E.W.T courses.”

Sarah shook her head. “I want to keep those subjects,” she said. “Also, I want to keep Ancient Studies and Astronomy.”

Severus raised an eyebrow at her. “That’s already nine N.E.W.Ts,” he said. “Most only do seven, maybe eight.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “That’s because most people aren’t _capable_ of doing more.”

Severus smirked slightly. “Indeed.”

“I do have a question, though,” Sarah said suddenly. “Alchemy – what are the chances that the subject will be available next year?”

“Sarah, that would be ten N.E.W.Ts,” warned Snape. “That may be too much.”

“If it gets too much I’ll drop Astronomy,” Sarah said, waving a hand. “Ancient Runes and Ancient Studies are a breeze; I’m not worried about those.”

“Technically, Ancient Studies isn’t a set N.E.W.T,” Severus said. “You’d be gaining extra credit but it wouldn’t be one of the large exams.”

“Even better,” grinned Sarah. “So, Alchemy?”

Severus sighed. “Right now, I would guess that Draco would choose to do the subject just so you could,” he said, flicking through papers. “Also, I believe Miss Granger would want to try, just to show off…”

Sarah tutted loudly. “No being rude to my friends outside of the classroom, Sev, it’s unbecoming.”

Severus scowled at her. “Regardless, you may find some of the Ravenclaws interested. You need at least ten people to have a class.”

“And if there aren’t ten people?”

Severus hesitated slightly. “Then I would be willing to tutor you in the subject and have you sit an external exam.”

Sarah smiled widely. “Brilliant,” she said. “Draco will want to do Alchemy because he wants to complete his Potions Mastery. Would you be willing to tutor the two of us?”

Severus gave a long-suffering sigh and muttered, “I can’t very well say no, can I?”

“Nope!” Sarah said gleefully, popping the ‘p’.

“Very well,” Snape said. His attitude changed once again and Professor Snape was back. “I will put down your preferences. Does this mean you plan on dropping Care of Magical Creatures after this year?”

Sarah nodded and winced slightly. “It’s not that I don’t like Hagrid and it _is_ an interesting class but…”

“You prefer intellectually stimulating lessons?” drawled Snape. “I will make the necessary notes.”

“Thank you, sir,” Sarah said.

“If that’s all, Deaumont, get out of my office,” ordered Snape. “And next time, try to be on time.”

Sarah stood and gave a sarcastic wave over her shoulder as she left the room. She decided to go to the Slytherin common room to see Blaise, Pansy and the others. She had been avoiding it ever since the article had come out and threats were hissed her way.

“Sup bitches,” she said as she arrived. She dropped onto the couch and immediately put her feet in Blaise’s lap.

“Disgusting,” scowled Blaise, but he didn’t push her off.

Sarah glanced around. “Where’s Pans and Mill?” she asked. Blaise stiffened slightly and glanced at Theo, who had raised his head from where it had been bent over a piece of parchment.

“Er…” Blaise said unhelpfully.

Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Okay, so I’ve obviously missed something. Unless you’ve suddenly become illiterate, which in itself, is unrealistic considering you have a comment for _everything._ ”

When neither of the boys laughed at this comment, Sarah was immediately on guard.

“What is it?” she said. “Spill.”

Theo sighed and put his quill down. He looked around the common room before saying a low voice, “Pansy and Millicent broke up yesterday.”

“ _What?”_

Blaise nodded solemnly. “Theo and I walked into their room yesterday to find them in the middle an extraordinary row.”

Theo flinched at the memory. “Daphne had come out to ask for our help; thought we could calm them down or something.”

“Alas, that failed,” Blaise said. “They went at it until Millie eventually screamed that she was done and stormed out.”

“Didn’t even notice us in the doorway,” Theo added. “Pansy was devastated.”

“Well, shit…” muttered Sarah. “Where are they now, do you know?”

Both Blaise and Theo cringed.

“Unfortunately,” Blaise said at the same time Theo confessed, “Pansy is in her room and Millicent is probably in Ravenclaw Tower.”

“Ravenclaw Tower?”

“Millicent is shagging Anthony Goldstein now,” Blaise said breezily. However, the effect was ruined by his pinched expression. “That caused quite a scene a few hours ago.”

“You mean, Pansy didn’t know?” Sarah gasped.

“Oh, she definitely knew,” Blaise corrected. “They were snogging at lunch today.”

“Pansy was a tad upset about how quickly Millicent moved on,” Theo admitted. “And, well, you know how she gets when she’s hurt.”

“I might go check on her,” Sarah said, rising to her feet. “If you don’t hear from me in an hour, come check on us.”

Blaise shook his head violently. “There is no way I am going _anywhere_ near Pansy when she was threatening to disembowel Millicent two hours ago. I value my intestines where they are, darling.”

Sarah scoffed and smacked him around the head. “Grow up, Blaise. We all know you survive on pure arrogance.”

“I am offended, Sarah!” he called as Sarah moved toward the girl’s dorm entrance. “ _Offended!_ ”

She faintly heard Theo throw something at Blaise and snap, “Shut the fuck up, Blaise, you’re always offended”, bringing a smile to her face.

Sarah sobered up as she knocked on the door to her room. A muffled, “Fuck off!” sounded from behind the door and Sarah sighed. Ignoring the call, she pushed the door open.

Immediately, she ducked as something came flying toward her face.

“What the fuck, Pans?” she cried, turning around to see that Pansy had thrown a paperweight at her. “You could’ve knocked me out.”

“Sorry, thought you were Blaise or that hag,” muttered Pansy, flopping back against her headboard. “It was my intention to cause pain.”

“Poor Blaise…” Sarah murmured as she walked towards Pansy’s bed. She sat down on the end of it and said carefully, “I heard about you and Millicent.”

Pansy scowled. “Of course you did,” she muttered, and then, in a firmer voice, “Also, we don’t use that name here anymore. From now on, she is to be referred to as that hag, wretched slut, cold-hearted bitch, or communal leg-spreader. Nothing else.”

Sarah raised her eyebrows but nodded slowly. “Okay…So, I think the question ‘how are you?’ was just answered.”

“I just can’t believe her!” burst Pansy. “I mean, she doesn’t even wait a full _day_ before she’s gagging for some guy’s cock!”

Sarah settled back against the bedpost and allowed Pansy to get out everything she had been keeping to herself for the past few days.

“It’s disgusting to think about!” ranted Pansy. “She was my _girlfriend_ and never once did she make any indication that she was attracted to dudes. She said, multiple times mind you, that she was a _proud lesbian_! You don’t say that and then immediately go and let a man-whore shove his dick in you.”

“You’re completely right,” Sarah murmured.

“I know!” Pansy exclaimed. Her dark bob was uncharacteristically mussed around her head and her eyes were tinged red. “And the worst thing,” she said, her voice beginning to break slightly, “is that it _hurts_.”

She suddenly burst into tears and Sarah leapt forward, wrapping the smaller girl into her arms.

“I – I – I _loved_ her, Sarah,” Pansy sobbed. “And she just discarded me like trash.”

“Darling…” Sarah started, at a loss for what to say.

“You know what we were fighting about?” Pansy said, pulling back and wiping her face viciously. “We were fighting about the fact that I wanted to spend the holidays with Blaise and Theo – he’s staying with Blaise in Italy,” she explained. “It was our plan to stay safe during the break. But the cold-hearted bitch didn’t understand _why_. She just thought I was trying to make an excuse not to stay with her!”

Pansy’s sobs started to return but once she had gained control again, she hissed, “And just because I refused to stay with her again – to keep her _safe_ – she breaks up with me!”

Pansy succumbed again to tears, releasing all the pent-up frustration and pain within her.

“I don’t know what to do, Sarah,” she muttered weakly.

Sarah rubbed up and down her back and whispered soothing sounds to her. She sighed and thought of how she could offer advice; it wasn’t like she’d ever gone through a breakup and _definitely_ nothing like this.

“The first thing you’re going to do,” she said, wiping Pansy’s face clear of tear tracks, “is remember that you are more than just her girlfriend or her ex. You are a beautiful, powerful young woman and” – Sarah smiled slightly as she chose one of Pansy’s nicknames to use, “ _that hag_ , doesn’t define you at all.”

Pansy nodded along with her words. It broke Sarah’s heart to see the usually terrifying and strong girl like this.

“Then, we’re going to clean you up so you like your magnificent self for dinner,” continued Sarah. “And we’re going to sit and eat and not think about any ex-girlfriends or horrid Ravenclaw man-whores.”

“Am I allowed to at least throw one hex?” asked Pansy in a small voice.

“Maybe later tonight,” said Sarah in compromise. “After dinner, you’re going to come to Gryffindor with me and Draco and you’re going to terrorise all the Gryffindors so that you remember how strong you are. You’ll get through this, Pans. And I know you’ll come out stronger on the other side.”

Pansy nodded again. “I do love terrorising those lions,” she said. “Okay, let’s do that.”

She sat up and ran her fingers through her hair, wincing at the knots and tangles in the dark strands.

“I think we better get started now,” she said, standing up straight, a queen taking back her throne. “I only have so much time to look completely irresistible. I want to make her regret ever getting on her knees for Goldstein.”

“That’s the spirit, darling,” Sarah said.

***

Dinner was an extremely tense affair. Sarah had pulled Draco to the side to quickly whisper what had happened and he immediately activated protector mode.

“Nobody hurts my girls,” he snarled, glaring down the table at where Millicent was sitting with some fourth years.

“Be gentle,” Sarah chided. “She’s our friend as well.”

Draco scowled. “She was until she treated Pansy like filth.”

“We should at least give her a chance to explain,” urged Sarah. “I would give you that opportunity if you ever broke up with Harry.”

“I’d hope you be on my side,” Draco said, glancing at her and frowning slightly. “But I don’t like that idea.”

“Of course, I’d be on your side,” said Sarah. “But if you were in the wrong, I’d curse you.”

“That’s the topic of conversation,” declared Draco. “But fine, I’ll be civil.”

At that moment, Pansy sauntered into the Hall and Blaise choked on his drink.

“Holy _shit_ ,” he exclaimed, drawing the attention of the others.

Holy shit was spot on. Considering that it was a weekend, students were allowed to wear normal clothes instead of their uniform. Pansy had sent Sarah out to dinner before she had gotten dressed and Sarah could understand why now. Multiple heads turned to follow the girl as she walked between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables towards where their group was sitting. Pansy was wearing a tight black shirt which showed off her ample cleavage and a form-fitting skirt which was so short Sarah was surprised that it was actually covering anything. Her hair had been tamed to its usual sleek bob and swayed with each high-heeled step. Pansy smirked at the gaping faces, her lips painted a bright red, before elegantly folding herself into the seat beside Theo, who was having a very hard time not looking at Pansy’s chest.

“Hello, all,” she said flippantly, pulling the closest dish toward her.

“Pans…” Draco said carefully. “That’s an – er – _interesting_ attire.”

“Isn’t it just _wonderful_?” gushed Pansy. “It’s doing exactly what I wanted it to do.”

“What? Making all the boy’s gaping perverts?” said Sarah, leaning over to flick Blaise on the nose. He let out an injured sound but quickly dug into his dinner, not looking at Pansy.

“Exactly,” smirked Pansy. “And the shameless slut can see what she’s missing out on. Goldstein’s cock has _nothing_ on my tits.”

All four of them barely managed to avoid spitting their mouthfuls across the table at that comment.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Sarah said, smiling at the other girl. “And honestly, this is an ego boost – Fred didn’t even look twice in your direction. Neither did Harry,” she added to Draco.

“Harry’s gay,” Draco said. “And Fred’s so in love with you it’s sickening.”

Sarah shrugged. “I can’t believe you made Theo speechless, he’s usually so controlled.”

“Unfortunately, Sarah I am, at my core, still a teenage boy,” said Theo weakly.

“And Pansy has a great set of tits,” Blaise added unapologetically. He glanced around at their raised eyebrows. “What? It’s true. Sarah’s are a close second, if you were wondering – OUCH!”

He gripped his head where both Sarah and Draco had smacked him and shot them all a wounded look.

“I’m trying to enhance your confidence, not hit on you,” he whined. “And I get this for my efforts?”

“You’re vulgar, Blaise,” Draco said flatly. “Keep those comments restricted to your bed.”

“Reminds me why I’m a lesbian,” Pansy shuddered. “All I have to do now is find someone to shag.”

Sarah cocked her head. “Do you know anyone available off the top of your head that wouldn’t mind being a rebound shag?”

Pansy shrugged. “No clue,” she said. “But I know there’s a sixth year who’s been eyeing me for the past ten minutes. I think she’d be willing.”

Sarah turned to look down the table and saw that there was a pretty sixth year watching Pansy appreciatively.

“You should talk to her,” Blaise said. “And if she says no, I’m always happy to help. I mean, it’d be payback for Millicent shagging a dude.”

Pansy levelled a terrifying glare on him.

“I will not stoop to her level,” she said evenly. “Although, I’m sure there must be someone in Gryffindor who wouldn’t mind tumbling in the sheets with me. I’m sure they’d be feisty in bed.” She turned to face Sarah and Draco. “Are they?”

Draco blushed but smirked. “Well, from my experience, yes.”

Sarah just huffed. “Fred would perform better than any of you,” she declared. “And that’s all the details you’re getting.”

A chorus of “Ohs!” and “Come on!” surrounded her but she stubbornly refused, crossing her arms and glaring until they gave up.

“You’re no fun, Sarah,” pouted Blaise. “However we will survive?”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way,” said Sarah wryly in response.

***

Pansy’s revenge mission was successful. Within a week, everyone knew that she and Millicent had broken up and were now out for each other’s blood. Sarah had tried to talk to Millicent about it but she had snapped at her, saying, “I know Pansy’s already told you what happened. That’s it, all right? Now can you please leave me alone, I have an essay to finish.”

Sarah didn’t think their group would be able to recover from the breakup. Already, Millicent had stopped spending time with them individually, believing that they all would support Pansy and not give her the time of day. She was wrong, Theo and Sarah still tried to talk to her but, admittedly, Blaise and Draco were less than fond of her at the moment.

The mayhem was still spreading around the castle. Every day, someone would find another stray firework leftover from Fred and George or prank that another student had committed. Slowly but surely, the students were trying to drive Umbridge crazy, and it was working. She barely had any free time to do her headmistress duties, as someone was always running up to her complaining about some issue or the other.

It all culminated, however, two weeks later when Fred and George set off their biggest product yet. A tremendous _BANG_! shook the walls as students catapulted out of their seats and into the corridors to determine the cause of the ruckus.

It was quite obvious.

An entire corridor on the second floor had been transformed into a swamp.

Sarah followed the crush of students all the way into the entrance hall, everyone shouting and moving amongst each other. Somehow, she managed to push her way to the front of the crowd.

Fred and George were standing in the middle of the entrance hall, smirking up at Professor Umbridge, who was standing on the marble staircase and smiling cruelly down at them.

“So!” said Umbridge triumphantly, looking down upon her prey. “So…you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?”

“Pretty amusing, yeah,” said Fred. His flicked to Sarah’s a for a split second and he winked, before turning his attention back to Umbridge.

Filch elbowed his way closer to Umbridge, almost crying with happiness. Sarah could see Harry a few steps above the pair, watching with barely concealed amusement.

“Argus, good…” said Umbridge. “You two,” she went on, gazing down at Fred and George, “are about to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school.”

“You know what?” said Fred. “I don’t think we are.”

He turned to his twin.

“George,” said Fred, “I think we’ve outgrown full-time education.”

“Yeah, I’ve been feeling that way myself,” said George lightly.

“Time to test our talents in the real world, d’you reckon?” asked Fred.

“Definitely,” said George.

And before Umbridge could say a word, they raised their wands and said together, “ _Accio Brooms!”_

Sarah heard a loud crash somewhere in the distance. Looking up the stairs, she saw people suddenly ducking and diving out of the way as Fred and George’s broomsticks, one still trailing the heavy chain and iron peg with which Umbridge had secured them with, hurtled down the stairs toward their owners.

“We won’t be seeing you,” Fred told Professor Umbridge, swinging his leg over his broomstick.

“Yeah, don’t bother to keep in touch,” said George, mounting his own.

Fred looked around at the assembled students, and at the silent, watchful crowd. His warm gaze held Sarah’s as he called out in a loud voice, “If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley – Weasley’s Wizards Wheezes. Our new premises!”

“Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they’re going to use our products to get rid of this old bat,” added George, pointing at Professor Umbridge.

“STOP THEM!” shrieked Umbridge, but it was too late. As the Inquisitorial Squad closed in, Fred and George kicked off the floor, shooting fifteen feet into the air, the iron peg swinging dangerously below. Fred looked across the crowd at the poltergeist bobbing on his level above the crowd.

“Giver her hell from us, Peeves.”

And Peeves, whom Sarah had never seen take an order from a student before, swept his belled hat from his head and sprang to a salute as Fred and George wheeled about to tumultuous applause from the students below and sped out of the open front doors into the glorious sunset.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

The story of Fred and George’s flight to freedom was retold so often over the next few days that Sarah could tell it would soon become the stuff of Hogwarts legend. They had made sure that nobody was likely to forget them very soon. For one thing, they had not left instructions on how to remove the swamp that now filled the corridor on the fifth floor of the east wing. Umbridge and Filch had been observed trying different means of removing it but without success. Eventually, the area was roped off and Filch, gnashing his teeth furiously, was given the task of punting students across it to their classrooms. Sarah was certain that McGonagall or Flitwick could have removed the swamp in an instant, but just as in the case of the fireworks, they seemed to prefer to watch Umbridge struggle. It was also hilarious to Sarah, considering that she was the one person who knew how to remove it completely and she wasn’t planning on sharing the details any time soon.

Then there were the two large broom-shaped holes in Umbridge’s office door, through which Fred and George’s Cleansweeps had smashed to rejoin their masters. Filch fitted a new door and removed Harry’s Firebolt to the dungeons, to Harry’s great annoyance. Umbridge’s troubles, however, were far from over.

Inspired by Fred and George’s example, a great number of students were now vying for the newly vacant positions of Troublemakers. Lee Jordan had managed to slip a hairy-snouted niffler into Umbridge’s office, which promptly tore the place apart in its search for shiny objects, leapt on Umbridge on her re-entrance, and tried to gnaw the rings off her stubby fingers. Dungbombs and Stinkpellets were dropped so frequently in the corridors that it became the new fashion for students to perform Bubble-Head Charms on themselves before leaving lessons, which ensured them a supply of fresh clean air, even though it gave them all the peculiar appearance of wearing upside-down goldfish bowls on their heads.

Meanwhile, it became clear just how many Skiving Snackboxes Fred and George had managed to sell before leaving Hogwarts. Umbridge only had to enter her classroom for the students assembled there to faint, vomit, develop dangerous fevers, or else spout blood from both nostrils. Shrieking with rage and frustration she attempted to trace the mysterious symptoms to their source but the students told her stubbornly they were suffering from “Umbridge-it is.” After putting four successive classes in detention and failing to discover their secret she was forced to give up and allow the bleeding, swooning, sweating, and vomiting students to leave her classes in droves.

But not even the users of the Snackboxes could compete with that master of chaos, Peeves, who seemed to have taken Fred’s parting words deeply to heart. Cackling madly, he soared through the school, upending tables, bursting out of blackboards, and toppling statues and vases. Twice he shut Mrs Norris inside suits of armour, from which she was rescued, yowling loudly, by the furious caretaker. He smashed lanterns and snuffed out candles, juggled burning torches over the heads of screaming students, caused neatly stacked piles of parchment to topple into fires or out of windows, flooded the second floor when he pulled off all the taps in the bathrooms, dropped a bag of tarantulas in the middle of the Great Hall during breakfast (causing a _very_ hilarious high-pitched scream from Ron) and, whenever he fancied a break, spent hours at a time floating along after Umbridge and blowing loud raspberries every time she spoke.

None of the staff but Filch seemed to be stirring themselves to help her. Indeed, a week after Fred and George’s departure Sarah witnessed Professor McGonagall walking right past Peeves, who was determinedly loosening a crystal chandelier, and could have sworn she heard her tell the poltergeist out of the corner of her mouth, “It unscrews the other way.”

Sarah gleefully regaled these tales to Fred every evening through the notebooks that Draco had made them a few years ago. He was delighted by all the mayhem being caused and offered pointers and suggestions, sometimes with George stealing the quill and offering his own thoughts.

The biggest confrontation occurred when Harry distractedly admitted to Draco that Snape had refused to teach him Occlumency anymore. Draco had marched right up to Snape at breakfast and began shouting so loudly and quickly in a mixture of French and English that Snape had dragged him from the Hall by his collar.

Sarah had eagerly raced after them, closely followed by Harry. They found the pair in a lone corridor deep in the dungeons, Draco’s enraged voice echoing off the stone walls.

“What do you _mean_ you won’t teach him any longer?” he shouted. “Dumbledore asked you to do it to _protect_ him! If you don’t, Voldemort could learn our plans – he could hurt Harry!”

“I don’t care what happens to Potter,” spat Snape. “He stuck his nose in places it didn’t belong and now he’s suffering the consequences.”

“That’s incredibly mature,” Draco said sarcastically. “Punish the fifteen-year-old for making a mistake. Yes, very wise for a grown adult.”

“Don’t take that tone with me, boy,” snarled Snape.

“Then stop acting like a class-A wanker and actually do your job!” yelled Draco. “I don’t _care_ if James Potter and his friends bullied you in school – you have an obligation to help us _now_!”

“You know _nothing_ about that – “ Snape hissed but Draco cut him off.

“It doesn’t matter how much I know!” he growled. “You are acting like a _child_. You hate the fact you got bullied in school? Then why the _fuck_ are you constantly bullying children now, who _you_ teach? That isn’t schoolyard bullying – that is purely selfish, appalling behaviour from _anybody_. No! Don’t interrupt me, I’m not done,” Draco said as Snape opened his mouth to retort. Draco’s silver eyes were flaming as he stared down his godfather. “There is no excuse for the way you treat Neville or Harry or Hermione or hell, _any_ of your students that aren’t Slytherins. You’re biased, rude, vicious and overall, not that great of a person. But, for some _unknown_ reason, I still trusted you. I trusted you to put aside your petty revenge and help my _boyfriend_ from having his mind attacked by Voldemort. I trusted you to stop acting like a wanker to eleven-year-olds for no reason. And now, because Harry discovered you were bullied by his father, you decide that letting his mind be open to attacks is _reasonable_? No! It’s spiteful and I won't stand for it. If you won’t teach Harry, then I will. And I’ll do a _much_ better job than you because I won’t be actively making his mind weaker through harsh treatment. I’ll actually respect the fact that he is a _human being_ and is his _own person_. Harry is not his father! Neville – well, I don’t even know why you hate him! Grow up, Severus! You’re meant to be a person we can rely on, _not_ someone who we are terrified of!”

Draco was heaving for breath at the end of his rant. Snape was standing in front of him, looking dumbstruck. Harry was gaping silently beside Sarah and she knew she probably had an identical expression on her face. She had never heard Draco shout at Snape and definitely never call him out on his actions.

Snape was silent for so long that Draco huffed and said harshly, “Until you decide to try to be a decent person, I don’t want anything to do with you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go read up on Occlumency and Legilimency to ensure that my boyfriend doesn’t become the victim of a vicious mental attack.”

And he spun on his heel and stalked away down the corridor.

Sarah and Harry quickly backtracked to lean against the wall and Draco’s steps faltered in surprise when he turned the corner to see them.

“Oh,” he said calmly. “So, I guess you heard that then?”

Sarah nodded dazedly. Harry, however, smiled so brightly at Draco that the other boy couldn’t seem to do anything but smile in return. Harry then jumped toward his boyfriend and began snogging him so intensely that Sarah looked away. When it looked like the embrace was about to move in dangerous territory, Sarah cleared her throat and they jumped apart.

“Sorry to break up your steamy snogfest,” she said unapologetically, “but a furious Potions professor may be coming this way at any moment and we should really _not_ be here when he does.”

Draco paled slightly and allowed Harry to drag him toward the entrance hall.

“I can’t believe I just did that,” Draco said weakly.

Sarah snorted. “Neither can I. But he had it coming for him,” she said. “I had totally forgotten that you didn’t know he had stopped teaching Harry.”

“Wait, you knew?” Draco said incredulously. He turned on Harry, “How come she knew but I didn’t?”

“Er…” Harry said dumbly, “because she was the first person I found and then I sort of became distracted?” He sheepishly smiled at his boyfriend and ran a hand through his thick curls. “I meant to tell you, I just – er – forgot…”

Draco rolled his eyes so hard that Sarah was surprised he didn’t go blind.

“Why I even put up with you, I have no idea,” he muttered fondly to Harry.

***

It was during the final Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, that Sarah and the other found out why Hagrid had been constantly getting injured throughout the term. He had appeared during the start of the match and taken Sarah, Harry, Draco and Hermione into the forest, showing them his half-brother giant, Grawp. Hagrid asked them to take care of Grawp when he was inevitably fired by Umbridge. Like a total idiot, Harry agreed immediately, which led Draco to reluctantly agree and by default, Sarah and Hermione.

“I’m going to be the first to say it,” Sarah said as they made their way back up to the castle without Hagrid, “he’s crazy.”

“You’re not wrong about that,” muttered Draco. “I can’t believe you agreed to help before hearing what we would be doing, Harry.”

Harry flushed slightly. “Well, what was I supposed to do? He’s our friend.”

“Sometimes, Harry, it’s better to see what you’re getting yourself into before diving in headfirst,” Sarah advised.

“Also, I don’t know how Hagrid expects us to spare any time to help – erm – _Grawp_ ,” Hermione said. “Exams aren’t that far away!”

A great tide of students was moving up the sloping lawns from the pitch. The sound of feverish singing reaching their ears.

_Weasley is our King,  
Weasley is our King,  
He didn’t let the Quaffle in,  
Weasley is our King…_

“I wish they’d stop singing that stupid song,” said Hermione miserably, “haven’t they gloated enough?”

“Let’s get in before we have to meet the Slytherins,” said Harry.

But Sarah had stopped moving and was instead listening closely.

_Weasley can save anything,  
He never leaves a single ring,  
That’s why Gryffindors all sing:  
Weasley is our King._

“Guys…” she said slowly, hardly believing her ears.

The song was growing louder, but it was issuing not from a crowd of green-and-silver-clad Slytherins, but from a mass of red and gold moving slowly toward the castle, which was bearing a solitary figure upon its many shoulders….

“No!” said Hermione in a hushed voice.

“YES!” said Harry loudly.

“HARRY! HERMIONE! SARAH! DRACO!” yelled Ron, waving the silver Quidditch Cup in the air and looking quite beside himself. “WE DID IT! WE WON!”

“Holy shit, no!” Sarah exclaimed. “We were so fucking close! How the fuck - !”

They beamed up at Ron as he passed; there was a scrum at the door of the castle and Ron’s head got rather badly bumped on the lintel, but nobody seemed to want to put him down. Still singing, the crowd squeezed itself into the entrance hall and out of sight. Harry and Hermione watched them go, beaming, until the last echoing strains of the song died away. Draco and Sarah were gaping at where the crowd had disappeared, barely processing the news.

Harry turned to them and his smile slowly faded as he looked at the forest again.

“We’ll save our news till tomorrow, shall we?” he said.

“Yes, all right,” said Hermione wearily. “I’m not in any hurry…”

Ron’s euphoria at helping Gryffindor scrap the Quidditch Cup was such that he could not settle to anything the next day. All he wanted to do was talk about the match and Sarah could see Harry and Hermione slowly crumbling under the guilt of having not seen it. It was only when the five of them were sitting under the beech tree on the edge of the lake that Sarah was finally able to broach the topic.

“Ron,” she said suddenly, cutting off his retelling of one of his saves. “No one wanted to say this but I have to – the only part of the match we actually saw was Davies’s first goal.”

Ron’s carefully ruffled hair seemed to wilt with disappointment.

“You didn’t watch?” he said faintly, looking at them individually. “You didn’t see me make any of those saves?”

“Well – no,” said Hermione, stretching out a placatory hand toward him. “But Ron, we didn’t want to leave – we had to!”

“Hagrid’s brought a giant back to school,” Harry said quickly when Ron’s face began turning red. He dived into retelling Ron what had happened and by the end, Ron’s indignation was replaced by a look of total incredulity.

“And Hagrid wants us to…?” Ron finally said nervously.

“Teach Grawp English, indeed,” Draco nodded.

“He’s lost it,” Ron said faintly.

“Oh, trust us, we know,” said Sarah without looking up from her textbook. “Completely bonkers.”

Harry swatted her head gently and she glared at him.

“Don’t be rude, Sarah,” he chided. “Grawp’s family.”

“He’s also a _giant_!” hissed Sarah, looking around to make sure no one could hear them. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Hagrid, but a giant? And right next to a _school_? Harry, there’s a reason they live far away in the mountains – they’re dangerous!”

“People say werewolves are dangerous and that isn’t the case,” Hermione said stiffly.

Sarah raised an eyebrow at her. “Hermione, you know that I am one of the biggest advocates for werewolf rights. This is different. A giant’s nature is to hunt and to attack. They’ve been dying out because they kill _each other_.”

“I agree with Sarah,” Draco said. “Maybe Grawp is different, I don’t know – sometimes you get outliers. But giants aren’t something we should be messing with.”

Hermione looked extremely put out but didn’t argue to matter any further.

***

Sarah was practicing her Animagus transformation on the anniversary of her mother’s death when she suddenly felt something shift inside her. Instead of the usual hazy anticipation that entered her mind, a feeling of _rightness_ filled her and she knew she would be able to complete the transformation.

She focused hard on clearing her mind and urging her body to change. At long last, her limbs began to shrink, drawing closer to her torso as it changed, folding in on itself. Hair began to sprout all over her skin and she felt something growing on her head. Within seconds, instead of a human girl sitting cross-legged in the empty room, a small black kitten was sprawled on the ground.

Sarah could see, hear and smell so many new things and delighted in the power in her small body. She let out a victorious mewl and rolled across the floor, jumping every now and then to test her new body. Once she had gained a good understanding of the workings of the feline, she sat down and concentrated on becoming human again.

When she finally reformed as her usual self, she let out a quiet shout of happiness and lay on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. She couldn’t wait until the holidays to show Sirius and Remus.

***

June had finally arrived, but to the fifth years this meant only one thing: their O.W.Ls were upon them at last.

Their teachers were no longer setting them homework; lessons were devoted to reviewing those topics their teachers thought most likely to come up in the exams. The purposeful, feverish atmosphere drove nearly everything but O.W.Ls from Sarah’s mind. She, Draco and Hermione were all studying for ten subjects: the most in the entire grade. Every lunch break and afternoon found the three of them sequestered in the library, sitting at a large table and surrounded by books and parchment. After Hermione had snapped at Ron, he and Harry had taken to studying at a table next to them to avoid confrontation. Sarah was glad for her and Draco’s obsessive studying habits early in the year, it meant that nearly everything they were revising, they already knew and were comfortable with.

People were acting oddly as the O.W.Ls drew steadily nearer. Sarah lost twenty points for Slytherin because she had punched Ernie Macmillan after he had continually hounded her about how many hours she was studying a day. Professor Flitwick had only blinked in surprise after she had stood up, shouted at Ernie to “Shut up!” and then clocked him viciously in the side of the head. It was worth the loss of points.

Their exams would span across two weeks, with their results being sent to them sometime in July. Their first exam, Theory of Charms, was scheduled for Monday morning. Sarah was repeatedly muttering definitions and wand movements under her breath. Draco had taken to walking around with the textbook under his nose at all times and constantly had to be steered away from hitting things by Harry. Harry had given up on helping Hermione study the Sunday night after she had smacked him on the nose with the corner of _Achievements in Charming_.

Breakfast was tense the next day. Blaise, usually so nonchalant about examinations, had a sickly pallor to his dark skin and was twitching every so often. Pansy and Theo were practising locomotion charms as Draco read _The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 5_ so fast that his eyes blurred. Sarah took one last look at her notes before putting them away and turning to her breakfast. There was no point stressing out about it, she was confident she knew everything she could for the exam.

Once breakfast was finished, the fifth and seventh years milled around in the entrance hall while the other students went off to lessons. Then, at half-past nine, they were called forward class by class to re-enter the Great Hall, which was now arranged in exam conditions. The four House tables had been removed and replaced instead with many singular tables, all facing the staff table end of the Hall where Professor McGonagall stood facing them. When they were all seated and quiet she said, “You may begin,” and turned over an enormous hourglass on the desk beside her, on which were also spare quills, ink bottles, and rolls of parchment.

Sarah turned over her paper and lowered her eyes to the first questions: _a) Give the incantations, and b) describe the wand movement required to make objects fly…_

She had a fleeting memory of a club soaring high into the air and landing loudly on the thick skull of a troll…Smiling slightly, she bent over the paper and began to write…

“Well, it wasn’t too bad, was it?” asked Hermione anxiously in the entrance hall two hours later, still clutching the exam paper. “I’m not sure I did myself justice on Cheering Charms, I just ran out of time – did you put in the countercharm for hiccups? I wasn’t sure whether I ought to, it felt like too much – and on questions twenty-three – “

Draco and Hermione descended into a detailed discussion of the questions and answers while Sarah, Harry and Ron reclined against the wall, resting before lunch. The fifth years ate lunch with the rest of the school and then trooped into the small chamber beside the Great Hall, where they were to wait until called for their practical examination. Sarah was surprisingly calm as she waited. She knew she was one of the first people that would be called and instead of practising wand movements and incantations, she imagined herself flying or relaxing in front of the fire in the common rooms, effectively calming her heartbeat down.

When her name was called, she smiled once at the others and then walked calmly into the Hall. She exited at the end extremely happy with her results. They weren’t permitted to go back into the small chamber and were instead send to their common rooms to have some time to study before dinner. After dinner, Sarah, Draco, Theo, Blaise and Pansy submerged themselves in studying for Transfiguration next day.

On Wednesday they had Herbology, then Defense Against the Dark Arts on Thursday. Sarah took particular pleasure in performing all the counterjinxes and defensive spells right in front of Umbridge, who was watching coolly from near the doors into the entrance hall. Judging from Harry’s smug face when he sat down in the library after practice, Sarah knew he too, had shown off in front of Umbridge.

On Friday, Harry and Ron had the day off as Sarah, Hermione and Draco sat their Ancient Runes exam. Sarah was confident with her performance, despite Hermione’s worry over mistranslating one rune.

Potions was on Monday, with the theory exam in the morning and practical in the afternoon. Sarah saw Snape try to catch Draco’s eye at the start but he stubbornly ignored him.

Tuesday was Care of Magical Creatures, with Astronomy theory Wednesday morning and the practical at midnight. That afternoon was devoted to Divination, Arithmancy and Ancient Studies.

When they reached the top of the Astronomy Tower at eleven o’clock they found a perfect night for stargazing, cloudless and still. The grounds were bathed in silvery moonlight, and there was a slight chill in the air. Each of them set up his or her telescope and, when Professor Marchbanks gave the word, proceeded to fill in the blank star chart he or she had been given.

Professors Marchbanks and Tofty strolled among them, watching as they entered the precise positions of the stars and planets they were observing. All was quiet except for the rustle of parchment, the occasional creak of a telescope as it was adjusted on its stand, and the scribbling of many quills. Half an hour passed, then an hour; the little squares of reflected gold light flickering on the ground below started to vanish as lights in the castle windows were extinguished.

As Sarah completed the constellation Orion on his chart, however, the front doors of the castle opened directly below the parapet where she was standing, so that light spilt down the stone steps a little way across the lawn. Sarah ignored it and turned back to her nearly completed star chart. She only had a few more constellations to include and she would be done.

As she put her eye back to the telescope a few minutes later, a distant roar echoed across the grounds and several people ducked out from behind their telescopes and peered instead in the direction of Hagrid’s cabin.

Professor Tofty gave a dry little cough.

“Try and concentrate, now, boys and girls,” he said softly. “Twenty minutes to go.”

Sarah immediately returned to her star chart and inputted the remaining constellations. Just as she was checking to ensure everything was correct, there was a loud _BANG_ from the grounds.

Hagrid’s door burst open and by the light flooding out of the cabin, they saw him quite clearly, a massive figure roaring and brandishing his fists, surrounded by six people and a squat figure who had to be Professor Umbridge, all of whom, judging by the tiny threads of red light they were casting in his direction, seemed to be attempting to Stun him.

“No!” cried Sarah.

“My dear!” said Professor Tofty in a scandalised voice. “This is an examination!”

But nobody was paying the slightest attention to their star charts anymore: jets of red light were still flying beside Hagrid’s cabin, yet somehow they seemed to be bouncing off him. He was still upright and still, as far as Sarah could see, fighting. Cries and yells echoed across the grounds; a man yelled, “Be reasonable, Hagrid!” and Hagrid roared, “Reasonable be damned, yeh won’t take me like this, Dawlish!”

Sarah could see the tiny outline of Fang, attempting to defend Hagrid, leaping at the wizards surrounding him until a Stunning Spell caught him and he fell to the ground. Hagrid gave a howl of fury, lifted the culprit bodily from the ground, and threw him: the man flew what looked like ten feet and did not get up again. Hermione gasped, both hands over her mouth; Sarah looked around at Draco and saw that he too was looking scared. Harry’s white face caught her eye from the other corner. None of them had ever seen Hagrid in a real temper before…”

“Look!” squealed Parvati,” who was leaning over the parapet and pointing to the foot of the castle were the front doors seemed to have opened again; more light had spilt out onto the dark lawn and a single long black shadow was now rippling across the lawn.

“No, really!” said Professor Tofty anxiously. “Only sixteen minutes left, you know!”

But nobody paid him the slightest attention: they were watching the person now sprinting toward the battle beside Hagrid’s cabin.

“How dare you!” the figure shouted as she ran. “How _dare_ you!”

“It’s McGonagall!” whispered Draco.

“Leave him alone! _Alone,_ I say!” said Professor McGonagall’s voice through the darkness. “On what grounds are you attacking him? He has done nothing, nothing to warrant such – “

Hermione, Parvati, Lavender and Pansy all screamed. No fewer than four Stunners had shot from the figures around the cabin toward Professor McGonagall. Halfway between cabin and castle the red beams collided with her. For a moment she looked luminous, illuminated by an eerie red glow, then was lifted right off her feet, landed hard on her back, and moved no more.

“Galloping gargoyles!” shouted Professor Tofty, who seemed to have forgotten the exam completely. “Not so much as a warning! Outrageous behaviour!”

“COWARDS!” bellowed Hagrid, his voice carrying clearly to the top of the tower, and several lights flickered back on inside the castle. “RUDDY COWARDS! HAVE SOME O’ THAT – AN’ THAT – “

“Oh my – “ gasped Hermione.

Hagrid took two massive swipes at his closest attackers; judging by their immediate collapse, they had been knocked out cold. Sarah saw him double over and thought for a moment that he had finally been overcome by a spell, but on the contrary, next moment Hagrid was standing again with Fang’s limp body draped around his shoulders.

“Get him, get him!” screamed Umbridge, but her remaining helper seemed highly reluctant to go within reach of Hagrid’s fists. Indeed, he was backing away so fast he tripped over one of his unconscious colleagues and fell over. Hagrid had turned and begun to run with Fang still hung around his neck; Umbridge sent one last Stunning Spell after him but it missed, and Hagrid, running full pelt toward the distant gates, disappeared into the darkness.

There was a long minute’s quivering silence, everybody gazing open-mouthed into the grounds. Then Professor Tofty’s voice said feebly, “Um…five minutes to go, everybody…”

Sarah half-heartedly rechecked her star chart but was eager for the exam to end. As soon as it did, she packed up her telescope as quickly as she could and dashed back down the spiral staircase.

They traipsed back to the Gryffindor common room to find it full. The commotion out in the grounds had woken several people, who had hastened to rouse their friends. Seamus and Dean, who had arrived before Sarah, Draco, Harry, Ron and Hermione, were now telling everyone what they had heard from the top of the Astronomy Tower.

“But why sack Hagrid now?” asked Angelina Johnson, shaking her head. “It’s not like Trelawny, he’s been teaching much better than usual this year!”

“Umbridge hates part-humans,” said Sarah bitterly, flopping down into an armchair. “She was always going to try and get Hagrid out.”

“And she thought Hagrid was putting nifflers in her office,” piped up Katie Bell.

“Oh blimey,” said Lee, covering his mouth. “That was me. Fred and George let me a couple, I’ve been levitating them in through her window…”

“She would have sacked him anyway,” said Sarah, patting Lee’s arm. “He was too close to Dumbledore.”

“That’s true,” said Harry, sinking into the small space remaining in Sarah’s armchair.

“I just hope Professor McGonagall’s okay,” said Draco.

“They carried her back up to the castle, we watched through the dormitory window,” said Colin Creevey. “She didn’t look very well…”

“Madam Pomfrey will sort her out,” said Alicia Spinnet firmly. “She’s never failed yet.”

“I’ll pop in and check on her tomorrow before the exam,” Sarah said, yawning. “We better head to bed.”

It was nearly four in the morning before the common room cleared. Thankfully, their final exam, History of Magic, was not to take place until that afternoon.

It was an absolute nightmare.

Well, the exam itself wasn’t, it was fine. Sarah answered all the questions easily thanks to Draco’s meticulous note-taking. It was an hour into the exam where it began to go downhill.

Harry had suddenly shouted and gripped his head. He fell heavily from his seat, still shouting in pain. The examiners were at a total loss at what to do. Within a few minutes, however, Harry had woken up and stood shakily on his feet. He was extremely pale and his scar was standing starch red against his skin. He had made brief, distraught eye contact with Sarah before hurrying out of the Hall, claiming that he was going to Madam Pomfrey.

He never came back to finish the exam and the next hour passed in tense silence. Sarah completed the final question and put down her quill, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for the final ten minutes to pass. As soon as it did, she handed in her exam paper and raced from the Great Hall, Draco, Hermione and Ron on her heels. They bumped in Harry at the top of the marble staircase; he had obviously been coming back down to find them.

“Harry, what happened?” Draco exclaimed as they took in the other boy’s stricken face.

“In here,” Harry said, dragging Draco by the arm into a first-floor classroom.

Ron slammed the door behind him and demanded, “What happened in there, mate? You just suddenly collapsed.”

“Voldemort’s got Sirius,” Harry said.

Sarah felt her stomach drop. “I’m sorry, what?” she said, sure that she had heard wrong.

“Voldemort has Sirius,” Harry repeated feverishly. “We have to go – we have to get him!”

“Go – where?” Ron asked in shock.

“The Ministry – Department of Mysteries,” gasped Harry. “What are we waiting for? We have to GO!”

He started toward the door but Draco grabbed his arm.

“Harry, wait,” he said firmly. “We can’t just go to the Ministry. How do we know Sirius was actually taken?”

“I just saw it!” Harry exclaimed.

“Did you? Or was it a trick of Voldemort’s?” said Sarah.

Harry gaped blankly at her.

“It – it wasn’t…It was real…Like with Mr Weasley!” Harry said haltingly.

“Okay,” nodded Sarah. “First we have to try contacting Sirius to see if he’s all right.”

“We don’t have _time_ , Sarah!” shouted Harry loudly.

“Yes, we do!” she snapped in reply. “We will not go racing headfirst into this without making sure that it’s real!”

Harry panted heavily near the doorway and shot her an angry look. Before he could say anything, the door swung open and Ginny walked in, followed closely by Luna, who looked like she had entered by complete accident.

“Hi,” said Ginny uncertainly. “We recognised Harry’s voice – what are you yelling about?”

“Never you mind,” said Harry roughly.

Ginny raised her eyebrows.

“There’s no need to take that tone with me,” she said coolly. “I was only wondering whether I could help.”

“Well, you can’t,” said Harry shortly.

“You’re being rather rude, you know,” said Luna serenely.

Harry swore and turned away.

“Wait,” said Hermione suddenly. “Wait…Harry, they _can_ help.”

Draco’s eyes widened.

“She’s right,” he said. He hadn’t loosened his grip on Harry’s arm. “We need a distraction if we’re going to try to contact Sirius. They can help with that.”

“How are we going to contact him?” Ron asked. “Umbridge is watching all the channels.”

“Not her own Floo,” said Sarah lowly. “Harry’ll have to use it to contact Headquarters.”

“Then, if Sirius isn’t there – if we find out Voldemort does have him – then I swear we won’t try to stop you, Harry,” said Hermione earnestly. “We’ll come with you – “

“Okay,” Harry said aggressively to Hermione, “Okay, if you can think of a way of doing this quickly, I’m with you, otherwise I’m going to the Department of Mysteries right now – “

“The Department of Mysteries?” said Luna, looking mildly surprised. “But how are you going to get there?”

Sarah turned to her and started saying, “No idea – “ but Hermione cut her off.

“Right,” she said, twisting her hands together and pacing up and down between the desks. “Right…well…One of us has to go and find Umbridge and – and send her off in the wrong direction, keep her away from her office. They could tell her – I don’t know – that Peeves is up to something awful as usual…”

“I’ll do it,” said Ron at once. “I’ll tell her Peeves is smashing up the Transfiguration department or something, it’s miles away from her office. Come to think of it, I could probably persuade Peeves to do it if I met him on the way…”

“Okay,” Draco said, continuing Hermione’s plan. “We need to keep students away from her office while we force entry, or some of the Slytherins are bound to go and tip her off…”

“Luna and I can stand at either end of the corridor,” said Ginny promptly, “and warn people not to go down there because someone’s let off a load of Garrotting Gas.” Draco looked surprised at the readiness with which Ginny had come up with this lie. Ginny shrugged and said, “Fred and George were planning to do it before they left.”

“Ugh, I remember that plan,” Sarah muttered. “Wasn’t their brightest.”

“Okay,” said Draco, “well then, Harry and I will be under the Invisibility Cloak and we’ll sneak into the office and use the Floo. Sarah and Hermione, can you two stand guard at the door?”

“Of course,” Sarah said immediately.

“Come on,” said Harry impatiently. “Let’s go – “

“ _Now_?” said Hermione, looking shocked.

“Of course now!” said Harry angrily. “Hermione, Sirius is being tortured _right now!_ ”

“Harry, calm down!” snapped Sarah. “You’ll be useless if you’re not thinking straight. I am just as worried about Sirius as you are. Go get your Invisibility Cloak and meet us at the end of the corridor with Umbridge’s office.”

Harry nodded and immediately turned to leave. Sarah grabbed Draco’s arm before he could follow.

“Keep an eye on him,” she whispered.

“I will,” promised Draco.

The next fifteen minutes passed quite quickly. Harry and Draco disappeared into Umbridge’s office while Ginny and Luna kept watch at the ends of the corridors, and Sarah and Hermione hovered around the office door.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Hermione muttered, pacing slightly.

Sarah nodded. “Me too,” she said. “I don’t think Umbridge would leave her office unprotected after the nifflers. We’re missing something.”

That something soon became obvious when Sarah and Hermione’s wands suddenly flew from their hands.

“ _Incarcerous!”_

Ropes wound their way around the girl’s wrists and Sarah spun around to see Crabbe smirking down at her.

“Well, well, well,” he said cruelly. “If it isn’t little Miss Deaumont. Too bad no one’s here to help you out of this mess.”

He laughed nastily and hauled Sarah toward the door. Hermione was being held roughly by Cassius Warrington. Sarah watched in dread as Umbridge stalked down the corridor, Ginny and Luna following behind her being pushed forward by other members of the Inquisitorial Squad. They were pushed into the office, where Umbridge had pulled Harry’s head out of the fire and grabbed both his and Draco’s wand. Another loud commotion sounded and Ron and Neville were led through the door, Goyle and Montague grasping their arms tightly.

“Got ‘em all,” Montague said, shoving Ron roughly forward into the room. “ _That_ one,” he poked a finger at Neville, “tried to stop me taking Weasley, so I brought him along too.”

“Good, good,” said Umbridge. “Well, it looks as though Hogwarts will shortly be a Weasley-free zone, doesn’t it?”

Crabbe laughed loudly and sycophantically. Umbridge gave her wide, complacent smile and settled herself into a chintz-covered armchair, blinking up at her captives like a toad in a flowerbed.

“So, Potter,” she said. “You stationed lookouts around my office and you sent this buffoon,” she nodded at Ron, and Crabbe laughed even louder, “to tell me the poltergeist was wreaking havoc in the Transfiguration department when I knew perfectly well that he was busy smearing ink on the eyepieces of all the school telescopes, Mr Filch having just informed me so.”

She eyed them all cruelly.

“Clearly, it was very important for you to talk to somebody. Was it Albus Dumbledore? Or the half-breed, Hagrid? I doubt it was Minerva McGonagall, I hear she is still too ill to talk to anyone…”

Sarah struggled against her bonds and snarled at Umbridge.

“It’s none of your business who I talk to,” Harry growled.

Umbridge’s slack face seemed to tighten.

“Very well,” she said in her most dangerous and falsely sweet voice. “Very well, Mr Potter…I have offered you the chance t tell me freely. You refused. I have no alternative but to force you. Vincent – fetch Professor Snape.”

Draco struggled on his own bonds and gag, his silver eyes wide and furious. There was silence in the office except for the fidgeting and scuffling resultant from the Slytherins’ efforts to keep Sarah and the other under control. At some point, Warrington had gone to hold Ron’s head back by his red hair and Goyle had replaced him behind Sarah and Hermione. Ginny was still trying to stamp on the feet of the sixth-year girl who had both her upper arms in a tight grip. Neville was turning steadily more purple in the face while tugging at Montague’s arms, who had Neville in a headlock. Luna, however, stood limply by the side of her captor, gazing vaguely out of the window as though rather bored by the proceedings.

Sarah looked back at Umbridge, who was watching Harry closely. Sarah’s head shot to the door when Snape and Crabbe arrived.

“You wanted to see me, Headmistress?” said Snape, looking around at all the pairs of struggling students with an expression of complete indifference. It only altered slightly when he caught sight of Draco and Sarah and his nostrils flared slightly.

“Ah, Professor Snape,” said Umbridge, smiling widely and standing up again. “Yes, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quick as you can, please.”

“You took my last bottle to interrogate Potter,” he said, observing her coolly through his greasy curtains of black hair. “Surely you did not use it all? I told you that three drops would be sufficient.”

Umbridge flushed.

“You can make some more, can’t you?” she said, her voice becoming more sweetly girlish as it always did when she was furious.

“Certainly,” said Snape, his lip curling. “It takes a full moon cycle to mature, so I should have it ready for you in around a month.”

“A month?” squawked Umbridge, swelling toadishly. “A _month_? But I need it this evening, Snape! I have just found Potter and Malfoy using my fire to communicate with a person or persons unknown?”

“Really?” said Snape, showing his first, faint sign of interest as he looked around at Harry. “Well, it doesn’t surprise me. Potter has never shown much inclination to follow school rules.”

His cold, dark eyes were boring into Harry’s, who met his gaze unflinchingly.

“Although,” Snape added after a moment, turning back to Umbridge, “I would like to know why you have my godson tied up like a common criminal.”

Umbridge flushed darkly again.

“He was caught with Potter,” she said snidely. “He will be punished with the rest of them.”

Snape raised an eyebrow at her.

“I’m sure Lucius Malfoy will be pleased when he finds out how you’re treating his son,” Snape said softly.

“You are on probation!” shrieked Professor Umbridge. “You are being deliberately unhelpful! Now get out of my office!”

Snape gave her an ironic bow and Sarah panicked. She shouted out the first thing she could think of.

“We know where it’s hidden!” she exclaimed. Snape stopped in his tracks and peered at her. She projected out her thoughts. _Voldemort’s got Sirius in the Department of Mysteries_. “Padfoot is there. _He’s_ got Padfoot. Tell Moony!”

Snape gazed unblinkingly at her.

“Where what’s hidden?” Umbridge snapped. “Padfoot? Moony? What is she talking about, Snape.”

“I have no idea,” said Snape coolly but he held eye contact with Sarah for a second longer. Honestly, she had no idea if he knew what she was talking about.

Snape stalked out of the room and Sarah saw Harry sag into his bonds, looking defeated. The door closed with a snap, echoing around the once again silent room.

“Very well,” she said, and she pulled out her wand. “Very well…I am left with no alternative…This is more than a matter of school discipline…This is an issue of Ministry security…Yes…yes…”

She seemed to be talking herself into something. Suddenly she gripped Sarah’s arm and pulled her into the chair in front of the desk.

“Considering that Potter won’t talk,” muttered Umbridge, still moving restlessly on the spot, “maybe a bit of incentive will loosen his tongue. I hear you’ve apparently undergone this curse before, Deaumont?” Umbridge raised her wand again.

Against Sarah’s will, her body began to shake. She was absolutely horrified: Umbridge was planning on using the Cruciatus Curse on a _student._

“No!” shrieked Harry. “Leave her alone!”

Draco was fighting so viciously against his bonds that Crabbe had to wrap his arms around Draco’s chest, keeping him still.

“It’s illegal!” shouted Hermione. “The Minister wouldn’t want you to break the law, Professor Umbridge!”

“What Cornelius doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” said Umbridge, who was now panting slightly as she pointed her wand at different parts of Sarah’s body in turn, apparently trying to decide what would hurt the most. “he never knew I ordered dementors after Potter last summer, but he was delighted to be given a chance to expel him, all the same…”

“It was _you_?” gasped Sarah, momentarily forgetting her fear. “You bitch!”

“Somebody had to act,” breathed Umbridge, as her wand came to rest pointing directly at Harry’s forehead. And taking a deep breath, she cried, “ _Cruc – “_

“Wait!” Sarah shouted, cringing back from the wand. “Wait, I’ll tell you!”

“No way!” yelled Harry, staring at Sarah in shock.

“I’m sorry Harry, but self-preservation,” Sarah said stiffly. “Slytherin, remember?”

Harry and the others stared at her in horror but she ignored them. She turned back to Umbridge who was grinning at her.

“Well, well, well,” said Umbridge, looking triumphant. “Little Miss Perfect is going to give us some answers! Come on then, girl, come on!”

“Sa – rah – no!” shouted Ron through his gag.

Ginny was staring at Sarah as though she had never seen her before; Neville, still choking for breath, was gazing at her too. Draco, however, was staring at her silently.

Sarah straightened her shoulders and said, “I’m – I’m sorry everyone,” she added a tremor to her voice to make it seem like she was about to break down, “But – but I can’t – can’t go through that pain again.”

“That’s right, that’s right, girl!” said Umbridge, seizing Sarah by the shoulders and leaning over her. “Now then…with whom was Potter communicating just now?”

Sarah thought fast and ducked her head to give her more time.

“Well,” gulped Sarah as she looked back up, “well, he was _trying_ to speak to Professor Dumbledore…”

Ron froze, his eyes wide; Ginny stopped trying to stamp on her captor’s toes; even Luna looked mildly surprised. Harry was frozen on the spot, gaping at her.

“Dumbledore?” said Umbridge eagerly. “You know where Dumbledore is, then?”

“No!” Sarah said stiffly. “I did say he was _trying_ , didn’t I? We tried everywhere we could think of – we had to tell him it was done.”

“What’s done?” demanded Umbridge, and now she grabbed Hermione’s shoulders again and shook her slightly. “What’s done, girl?”

Sarah gazed evenly back at Umbridge and said, “The weapon he left us when he disappeared.”

“Weapon? Weapon?” said Umbridge, and her eyes seemed to pop with excitement. “You have been developing some method of resistance? A weapon you could use against the Ministry? On Professor Dumbledore’s orders, of course?”

“Y-y-yes,” stuttered Sarah. “He knew I was talented at Charms so he asked me to assist him and I got the others involved.”

“What kind of weapon is it?” said Umbridge harshly, her stubby fingers still tight on Sarah’s shoulders.

“We don’t really understand it,” Hermione inputted, catching on to what Sarah was talking about. “We just did what Professor Dumbledore told us to…”

Umbridge straightened up, looking exultant.

“Lead me to the weapon,” she said.

“I’m not showing… _them_ ,” said Sarah, looking around at the Slytherins.

“It is not for you to set conditions,” said Professor Umbridge harshly.

“Fine,” said Sarah, crossing her hands, “fine…let them see it. Give even more people access to a weapon primarily intended to go against the Ministry. Yes, that’s a very smart plan.”

The words had a powerful impact on Umbridge. She glanced swiftly and suspiciously around at her Inquisitorial Squad, her bulging eyes resting for a moment on Crabbe, who was too slow to disguise the look of eagerness and greed that had appeared on his face.

“Of course, maybe it would help you to have students come along,” Sarah plundered on loudly. “I mean, it’s not like they’ll be looking out for ways to advance their own standing. If they told the Minister that you had found a weapon that could be used against the Ministry, well, he would be thinking about all the ways it could be used – one of them could even replace _you_ – “

“Shut up, girl!” snapped Umbridge, slapping Sarah across the face.

She clamped her jaw shut and tried to push down the smug smile that was tugging at the corner of her lips.

“I’m sorry, dear,” Umbridge said in a much gentler tone. It made Sarah want to vomit. “Let’s make it just you and me…and we’ll take Potter too, shall we? Get up, now – “

“Professor,” said Crabbe eagerly, “Professor Umbridge, I think some of the squad should come with you to look after – “

“I am a fully qualified Ministry official, Crabbe, do you really think I cannot manage two wandless teenagers alone?” asked Umbridge sharply. “In any case, it does not sound as though this weapon is something that school children should see. You will remain here until I return and make sure none of these” – she gestured around at Ron, Ginny, Neville, Draco, Hermione, and Luna – “escape.”

“All right,” said Crabbe, looking sulky and disappointed.

“And you two can go ahead of me and show me the way,” said Umbridge, pointing at Sarah and Harry with her wand. “Lead on…”


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Umbridge followed behind Sarah and Harry as Sarah led them out onto the grounds. Harry kept shooting Sarah confused looks.

“It’s hidden in Hagrid’s hut, is it?” said Umbridge eagerly.

“Of course not,” said Sarah scathingly. “Hagrid might have set it off accidentally.”

“Yes,” said Umbridge, whose excitement seemed to be mounting. “Yes, he would have done, of course, the great half-breed oaf…”

Sarah gritted her teeth to stop from snapping at Umbridge.

“Then…where is it?” asked Umbridge, with a hint of incredulity in her voice as Sarah continued to stride toward the forest.

“In there, of course,” said Sarah, pointing into the dark trees. “It had to be somewhere that students weren’t going to find it accidentally, didn’t it?”

“Of course,” said Umbridge, though she sounded a little apprehensive now. “Of course…very well, then…you two stay ahead of me.”

“Can we have your wand, then, if we’re going first?” Harry asked her.

“No, I don’t think so, Mr Potter,” said Umbridge sweetly, poking him in the back with it. “The Ministry places a rather higher value on my life than yours, I’m afraid.”

As they reached the cool shade of the first trees, Harry tried to catch Sarah’s eye again; admittedly, walking into the forest without wands was not the smartest idea she had ever had but it was the best in the current situation.

“It’s a bit further in!” Sarah called loudly over her shoulder, crashing through the undergrowth with a wholly unnecessary amount of noise. “Watch your step over here!” she shouted as Umbridge tripped over a fallen sapling. Neither of them paused to help her up again; Sarah merely strode on.

“Sarah, keep your voice down,” Harry muttered, hurrying to catch up with her. “Anything could be listening in here – “

“I want us heard,” she answered quickly, as Umbridge jogged noisily after them. “You’ll see…I hope…”

They walked on for what seemed like a long time, until they were once again so deep into the forest that the dense tree canopy blocked out all light. Sarah continued to shout loudly about their destination, crossing her fingers and hoping that something slightly pleasant was listening.

“How much further?” demanded Umbridge angrily from behind her.

“Not far now!” shouted Sarah, as they emerged into a dim, dank clearing. “Just a little bit – “

An arrow flew through the air and landed with a menacing thud in the tree just over her head. The air was suddenly full of the sound of hooves. Sarah could feel the forest floor trembling; Umbridge gave a little scream and pushed Harry in front of her like a shield –

Sarah wrenched him free and turned them. Around fifty centaurs were emerging on every side, their bows raised and loaded, pointing at Sarah, Harry and Umbridge, who backed slowly into the centre of the clearing, Umbridge uttering odd little whimpers of terror. Harry looked sideways at Sarah. She couldn’t help the triumphant smile on her face.

“Who are you?” said a voice.

Sarah looked left. The chestnut-bodied centaur called – Sarah wracked her brains from when Hagrid had brought them in a month ago – oh, yes, Magorian, was walking toward them out of the circle; his bow, like the others’, was raised. On Sarah’s right, Umbridge was still whimpering, her wand trembling violently as she pointed it at the advancing centaur.

“I asked you who are you, human,” said Magorian roughly.

“I am Dolores Umbridge!” said Umbridge in a high-pitched, terrified voice. “Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic and Headmistress and High Inquisitor of Hogwarts!”

“You are from the Ministry of Magic?” said Magorian, as many of the centaurs in the surrounding circle shifted restlessly. Sarah subtly grabbed Harry’s arm and drew him backwards a step.

“That’s right!” said Umbridge in an even higher voice. “So be very careful! By the laws laid down by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, any attack by half-breeds such as yourselves on a human – “

“ _What_ did you call us?” shouted a wild-looking black centaur, whom Sarah recognised as Bane. There was a great deal of angry muttering and tightening of bowstrings around them.

“Don’t call them that!” Sarah said furiously, but Umbridge did not appear to have heard her. She continued to ramble on about the laws.

“What are you doing in our forest?” bellowed a hard-faced grey centaur. “Why are you here?”

“ _Your_ forest?” said Umbridge, shaking now not only with fright but also, it seemed, with indignation. “I would remind you that you live here only because the Ministry for Magic permits you certain areas of land – “

An arrow flew so close to her head that it caught her mousy hair in passing. She let out an ear-splitting scream and threw her hands over her head while some of the centaurs bellowed their approval and others laughed raucously. The sound of their wild, neighing laughter echoing around the dimly lit clearing and the sight of their pawing hooves was extremely unnerving.

“Whose forest is it now, human?” bellowed Bane.

“Filthy half-breeds!” she screamed, her hands still tight over her head. “Beasts! Uncontrolled animals!”

“Be quiet!” shouted Hermione, but it was too late – Umbridge pointed her wand at Magorian and screamed, “ _Incarcerous_!”

Ropes flew out of midair like thick snakes, wrapping themselves tightly around the centaur’s torso and trapping his arms. He gave a cry of rage and reared onto his hind legs, attempting to free himself, while the other centaurs charged.

Harry grabbed Sarah and pulled her to the ground, covering her body with his. Facedown on the forest floor she knew a moment of terror as hooves thundered around them, but the centaurs leapt over and around them, bellowing and screaming in rage.

“Nooooo!” she heard Umbridge shriek. “Nooooo…I am Senior Undersecretary…you cannot…unhand me, you animals…nooooo!”

She saw a flash of red light and knew that Umbridge had attempted to Stun one of them – then she screamed very loudly. Lifting her head a few inches, Sarah saw that Umbridge had been seized from behind by Bane and lifted high into the air, wriggling and yelling with fright. Her wand fell from her hand to the ground and Harry stretched out a hand toward it – but a centaur’s hoof descended upon the wand and it broke cleanly in half.

“Now!” roared a voice in Sarah’s ear and a thick hairy arm descended from thin air and dragged her upright; Harry too had been pulled to his feet. Over the plunging, many-coloured backs and heads of the centaurs Sarah saw Umbridge being borne away through the trees by Bane, still screaming nonstop; her voice grew fainter and fainter until they could no longer hear it over the trampling of hooves surrounding them.

“And these?” said the hard-faced, grey centaur holding Sarah.

“They are young,” said a slow, doleful voice from behind them. “We do not attack foals.”

“They brought her here, Ronan,” replied the centaur who had a grip on Harry. “And they are not so young…He is nearly manhood, this one…”

He shook Harry but the neck of his robes.

“Please,” Sarah said breathlessly, “we only brought her in here because I hoped we’d lose her. She was going to torture us. I couldn’t think of anything else!”

“They came here unasked, they must pay the consequences!” shouted a random centaur.

But they did not hear what else the centaurs would say, for at that moment there came a crashing noise on the edge of the clearing so loud that all of them – Sarah, Harry, and the fifty or so centaurs filling the clearing – looked around. Sarah’s centaur let her fall to the ground against as his hands flew to his bow and quiver of arrows; Harry had been dropped too, and Sarah hurried toward him as two thick tree trunks parted ominously and the monstrous form of Grawp the giant appeared in the gap.

The centaurs nearest him backed into those behind. The clearing was now a forest of bows and arrows waiting to be fired, all pointing upward at the enormous greyish face now looming over them from just beneath the thick canopy of branches. Grawp’s lopsided mouth was gaping stupidly. They could see his bricklike yellow teeth glimmering in the half-light, his dull sludge-coloured eyes narrowed as he squinted down at the creatures at his feet. Broken ropes trailed from both ankles.

He opened his mouth even wider.

“Hagger.”

Sarah blanched. Harry was watching Grawp’s feet, which were almost as long as Harry’s whole body. Sarah gripped his arm tightly; the centaurs were quite silent, staring up at the giant, whose huge, round head moved from side to side as he continued to peer amongst them as though looking for something he had dropped.

“ _Hagger_!” he said again, more insistently.

“Get away from here, giant!” called Magorian. “You are not welcome amongst us!”

These words seemed to make no impression whatsoever on Grawp. He stooped a little (the centaurs’ arms tensed on their bows) and then bellowed, “HAGGER!”

A few of the centaurs looked worried now. Sarah, however, gave a gasp.

“Harry!” she whispered. “I think he’s trying to say ‘Hagrid’!”

At this precise moment Grawp caught sight of them, the only two humans in a sea of centaurs. He lowered his head another foot or so, staring intently at them. Sarah was shaking as Grawp opened his mouth again and said, in a deep, rumbling voice, “’Arah!”

“Oh shit,” breathed Sarah, gripping Harry’s arm tightly. Hagrid had tried to teach Grawp their names but he hadn’t been able to pronounce them properly. “he – he remembered…”

“’ARAH!” roared Grawp. “WHERE HAGGER?”

“I don’t know!” squealed Sarah, terrified. “I’m sorry, Grawp, I don’t know!”

“GRAWP WANT HAGGER!”

One of the giant’s massive hands swopped down upon them – Sarah let out a real scream, ran a few steps backwards and fell over. Wandless, Harry, like an actual idiot, braced himself instead of moving out of the way as the hand flew toward him and knocked a snow-white centaur off his legs.

It was what the centaurs had been waiting for – Grawp’s outstretched fingers were a foot from Harry when fifty arrows went soaring through the air at the giant, peppering his enormous face, causing him to howl with pain and rage and straighten up again, rubbing his face without his enormous hands, breaking off the arrow shafts but forcing the heads in still deeper.

He yelled and stamped his enormous feet and the centaurs scattered out of the way. Pebble-sized droplets of Grawp’s blood showered them as Harry pulled Sarah to her feet and the pair of them ran as fast as they could for the shelter of the trees. Once there, they looked back – Grawp was snatching blindly at the centaurs as blood ran all down his face; they were retreating in disorder, galloping away through the trees on the other side of the clearing. As Sarah and Harry watched, Grawp gave another roar of fury and plunged after them, smashing more trees aside as he went.

“Oh no,” said Sarah, quaking so badly that her knees gave way. “Oh, shit, that was terrifying. Oh, my fucking Merlin.”

“We have to go,” Harry said quickly. He grabbed Sarah’s arm tightly and the pair began sprinting back through the forest toward the castle. “Sirius could already be dead!”

“We’ll save him, Harry,” Sarah said as they raced through the undergrowth. “We have to.”

“But how are we going to get to London?” Harry asked as they burst into a clearing, panting for breath.

“Yeah, we were just wondering that,” said a familiar voice behind them.

Sarah and Harry moved instinctively together, peering through the trees as Ron came into sight, with Draco, Ginny, Neville, Hermione and Luna hurrying along behind him. All of them looked a little the worse for wear – there were several long scratches running the length of Ginny’s cheek, a large purple lump was swelling above Neville’s eyes, Ron’s lip was bleeding worse than ever and Draco’s robes were ripped – but all were looking rather pleased with themselves. Draco threw himself at Harry, wrapping his arms around his neck. Immediately, he jumped back with a noise of disgust.

“Why are you covered in _blood_?” he shrieked.

“Grawp,” Sarah gasped, holding her shaking, blood-drenched hands in front of her. “Centaurs took Umbridge and Grawp attacked the centaurs.” She turned to see the other six looking at them in shock. “Can we _please_ talk about something else – like _London_ , perhaps?”

“Well, we’ll have to fly, won’t we?” said Luna in the closest thing to a matter-of-fact voice Sarah had ever heard her use.

“Okay,” said Harry, irritably, rounding on her, “first of all, ‘we’ aren’t doing anything if you’re including yourself in that, and second of all, Ron, Sarah and Draco are the only ones with broomsticks that aren’t being guarded by a security troll, so – “

“I’ve got a broom!” said Ginny.

“Yeah, but you’re not coming,” said Ron angrily.

“Excuse me, but I care what happens to Sirius as much as you do!” said Ginny, her jaw set so that her resemblance to Fred and George was suddenly striking.

“You’re too – “

“Harry, let’s not argue about this and instead figure out how the fuck we’re going to save our godfather,” Sarah snapped. “Because he is as much mine as he is yours and if you are right, he is currently at the hands of a madman.”

Harry gaped at her slightly before straightening.

“You’re right, we have to go,” Harry agreed. “But how – the brooms - ?”

“There are other ways of flying than broomsticks,” said Luna serenely.

“I s’pose we’re going to ride on the back of the Kacky Snorgle or whatever it is?” Ron demanded.

“The Crumple-Horned Snorkack can’t fly,” said Luna in a dignified voice, "but _they_ can, and Hagrid says they’re very good at finding places their riders are looking for.”

Harry suddenly whirled around and his eyes widened significantly. His mouth began to gape and he turned to Luna, questions burning in his eyes.

“What the fuck are we supposed to be looking at?” Draco asked.

Sarah choked on a scream as something brushed up against her and began licking her sleeve.

“H-H-Harry!” she gasped. “What is _licking_ me?”

“Is it those mad horse things from Hagrid’s lesson?” Ron said uncertainly, staring at a spot in between the trees. “Those ones you can’t see unless you’ve watched someone snuff it?”

“Yes!” said Harry.

“How many?”

“Just three.”

“Well, we need five,” said Hermione.

“Six, Hermione,” said Ginny, scowling.

“I think there are eight of us, actually,” said Luna calmly, counting.

“Don’t be stupid, we can’t all go!” said Harry angrily. “Look, you three” – he pointed at Neville, Ginny and Luna – “you’re not involved in this, you’re not – “

They burst into more protests. Harry suddenly clapped a hand to his forehead and Draco frowned at him.

“Okay, _enough!”_ Draco shouted. Everyone paused and looked at him. He turned to look at Luna. “Luna, are there enough Thestrals for all of us?” The blond girl nodded. Apparently more had arrived without anyone realising, attracted by the scent of fresh blood. “Good, you and Harry can help us mount them and once everyone is ready, we can save Sirius.”


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Sarah wound her hand tightly into the mane of the thestral that Harry had helped her on to. It was one of the weirdest things she had ever done. She couldn’t even see the bloody thing.

“I really hope you’re right about this Luna,” she called as she gripped blindly at the horse-like body beneath.

“It’s not too bad, Sarah,” Draco said.

“Yes, well not everybody has a sturdy boyfriend to grope for safety,” said Sarah sarcastically, shooting a glare at him.

He was sitting comfortably behind Harry, hands wrapped tightly around the other boy’s waist. Draco’s eyes were tightly closed and his head was pressed against Harry’s back.

“Not to bad, my arse,” scoffed Sarah under her breath.

“This is mad,” Ron said faintly, moving his free hand gingerly up and down his thestral’s neck. “Mad…if I could just see it – “

“You’d better hope it stays invisible,” said Harry darkly. “We all ready, then?”

They all nodded and Sarah saw seven pairs of knees tighten beneath their robes. She held on with all her might as Harry spoke to his thestral and they all suddenly leapt up in a great sweeping movement that nearly unseated them. The thestral beneath Sarah rocketed upward so fast and so steeply that she had to clench her arms and legs tightly around the horse to stop sliding backward over its invisible, bony rump. She closed her eyes and put her face down into the horse’s silky mane as they burst through the topmost branches of the trees and soared out into a bloodred sunset.

Hermione let out a piercing shriek behind Sarah that was swallowed up by the rushing wind. Sarah did not think she had ever moved so fast. The thestral streaked over the castle, the tall towers zooming passed in a blue of stone. They were over the Hogwarts grounds, they had passed Hogsmeade. Sarah could see mountains and gullies below them. In the falling darkness Sarah saw small collections of lights as they passed over more villages, then a winding road on which a single car was beetling its way home through the hills…

“I’m going to be sick,” Sarah groaned, pressing her eyes tightly shut.

“This is bizarre!” Sarah heard Ron yell from somewhere behind her.

Twilight fell: the sky turned to a light, dusky purple littered with tiny silver stars, and soon it was only the lights of Muggle towns that gave them any clue of how far from the ground they were or how very fast they were travelling. Sarah’s arms were wrapped tightly around her horse’s neck as she willed it to go even faster. How much time had elapsed since Harry saw Sirius in the Department of Mysteries.

Sarah’s stomach gave a jolt. It felt as though the thestral’s head was suddenly pointing toward the ground; she had actually slid forward a few inches along its neck. Sarah scrambled until she felt slightly more secure on the invisible body. They were descending at last. Bright orange lights were growing larger and rounder on all sides. They could see the tops of buildings, streams of headlights like luminous inset eyes, squares of pale yellow that were windows. Quite suddenly, it seemed, they were hurtling toward the pavement. Sarah gripped the thestral with every last ounce of her strength, braced for sudden impact, but the horse touched the dark ground as lightly as a shadow and Sarah gratefully slid off, stumbling into a wall without a shred of her usual grace.

The others dropped down beside her, equal parts pale and terrified. Ron slid off his thestral and straight onto the pavement, looking slightly green.

“Never again,” he said, struggling to his feet. He made as if to walk away but obviously collided with his thestral, rebounding off its hindquarters. “Never, ever again…that was the worst – “

Harry climbed off his own thestral and offered Draco his hand, who gratefully took it and stood on shaky legs. Hermione and Ginny touched down on either side of him. Both slid off their mounts a little more gracefully than Ron, though with similar expressions of relief at being back on firm ground. Neville jumped down, shaking, but Luna dismounted smoothly.

“Where do we go from here, then?” she asked Harry in a politely interested voice, as though this was all a rather interesting day trip.

“Over here,” he said. He led them over to the battered telephone box and opened the door. “Come _on_!” he urged the others.

Sarah leaned on Neville, still feeling extremely queasy from the trip, and hobbled over to the telephone box. Miraculously, everyone managed to squeeze inside, although Ron did have to awkwardly reach past her to dial six-two-four-four-two on the receiver. Within seconds, they were descending into the ground, blackness closed over their heads, and with a dull grinding noise, they sank down into the depts of the Ministry of Magic.

A chink of soft golden light hit their feet and, widening, rose up their bodies. Sarah dug her wand out of pocket and held it as securely as she could in the close confines. The Atrium seemed completely empty; the light was dimmer than it had been by day. There were no fires burning the mantelpieces set into the walls, but she saw the lift slid smoothly to a halt that the golden symbols continued to twist sinuously in the dark blue ceiling.

“The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant evening,” said the default Ministry woman’s voice. It echoed in the small space and they all glanced around nervously.

The door of the telephone box burst open; Harry toppled out of it, followed by Neville, Ginny and Luna. Ron, Draco, Hermione and Sarah stepped out and looked around.

“Something’s not right,” Sarah muttered, grabbing Draco’s hand.

“Come on,” Harry said quietly, sprinting off. The seven of them followed him, past the fountain, toward the desk where the security guards weigh wands on entrance.

Sarah looked around and frowned. She tugged on Draco’s hand and he looked down in question.

“Where is everyone?” she asked. The entire Atrium was completely deserted. Every time she had come here previously with either her mother or the Malfoys, it had always been packed with Ministry worker. “It shouldn’t be empty. Most departments have rotating shifts – there should be at least _somebody_.”

Draco’s stormy eyes narrowed and his mouth tightened.

“Harry,” he called softly. The other boy didn’t stop running, only looked over his shoulder at them.

“What?”

“There’s no one here,” Draco said, eyes darting around uneasily. “That’s not normal. Not normal at all.”

“We can’t worry about that now,” Harry said irritably, wrenching open one of the golden gates to the lifts. “Sirius needs us.”

Draco’s face pinched but he nodded and entered the lift. The others quickly followed, everyone gripping their wands tightly in their hands. The gate clattered closed loudly behind them and the lift began to descend quickly. When the cool female voice said, “Department of Mysteries,” the grilles slid open again and they stepped out into a corridor where nothing was moving but the nearest torches, flickering in the rush of air from the lift.

Harry turned to look at the plain black door at the end of the corridor.

“This is the door from my dreams,” he said, walking slowly toward it.

Draco quickly grabbed his hand. “Wait, we have to be careful,” he said. He glanced around at the others. “And we have to stick together. No one knows what goes on in the Department of Mysteries except for the Unspeakables. We have to be prepared for anything.”

They all nodded stiffly and Harry began to lead them down the corridor again. He paused slightly as he reached the door but then took a deep breath and pushed it open. They all filed through into a large circular room. Everything in her was black including the floor and ceiling – identical, unmarked, handle-less black doors were set at intervals all around the black walls, interspersed with branches of candles whose flames burned blue, their cool, shimmering light reflected in the shining marble floor so that it looked as though there was dark water underfoot.

“Someone shut the door,” Harry muttered.

Sarah and Draco immediately leapt forward, their hands outstretched, a cry of warning on their lips – bit it was too late, Neville closed the door behind him. Without the long chink of light from the torch-lit corridor behind them, the place became so dark that for a moment the only things they could see were the bunches of shivering blue flames on the walls and their ghostly reflections on the floor below. Suddenly, there was a great rumbling noise and the candles began to move sideways. The circular wall was rotating.

For a few seconds, the blue flames around them blurred to resemble neon lines as the wall sped around and then, quite as suddenly as it had started, the rumbling stopped and everything became stationary once again.

“Well, that just got more difficult,” Draco stated. “I would recommend _not_ doing that again.”

“Draco, not helping,” hissed Hermione.

“How’re we going to get back out?” said Neville uncomfortably.

“Well, that doesn’t matter now,” said Harry forcefully, blinking quickly. “We won’t need to get out till we’ve found Sirius – “ He cut off and looked around at the doors.

“Where do we go, then, Harry,” Ron asked.

“I don’t – “ Harry began. He swallowed. “In the dreams, I went through a door at the end of the corridor from the lifts into a dark room – that’s this one – and then I went through another door into a room that kind of…glitters. We should try a few doors,” he said hastily. “I’ll know the right way when I see it. C’mon.”

“Glitters…” Sarah muttered under her breath, shaking her head.

Harry marched straight at the door now facing him, the others following close behind him, set his left hand against its shining surface, raised his wand, and pushed. It swung open easily.

After the darkness of the first room, the lamps hanging low on golden chains from this ceiling gave the impression that this long rectangular room was much brighter, though there were no glittering, shimmering lights. The room was quite empty except for a few desks and, in the very middle of the room, an enormous glass tank of deep-green water, big enough for all of them to swim in, which contained a number of pearly white objects that were drifting around lazily in the liquid.

“What’re those things?” whispered Ron.

“Dunno,” said Harry.

“Are they fish?” breathed Ginny.

“Aquavirius maggots!” said Luna excitedly. “Dad said the Ministry was breeding – “

“No,” said Hermione. She sounded odd. “They’re brains.”

“ _Brains_?”

“Yes…” She took a step closer toward the tank but Draco held her back.

“This isn’t the room we need,” he said tensely. “Let’s get out of here.”

Sarah nodded in agreement and took a step back, tearing her eyes from the floating brains. They hurried back into the dark circular room; the ghostly shapes of the brains were now swimming before Sarah’s eyes instead of the blue candle flames.

“Wait!” said Hermione sharply, as Luna made to close the door of the brain room behind them. “ _Flagrate!”_

She drew her wand in an X movement and a fiery figure appeared on the door. No sooner had the door clicked shut behind them the room began spinning again. When all became still again, the fiery cross still burned, showing the door they had already tried.

“Good thinking,” said Harry. “Okay, let’s try this one – “

Again, Sarah and the others followed as Harry strode forward and opened the door. This room was larger than the last, dimly lit and rectangular, and the centre of it was sunken, forming a great stone put some twenty feet below them. They were standing on the topmost tier of what seemed to be stone benches running all around the room and descending in steep steps like an amphitheatre. There was a raised stone dais in the centre of the lowered floor, and upon this dais stood a stone archway that looked so ancient, cracked, and crumbling that Sarah was amazed the thing was still standing. Unsupported by any surrounding wall, the archway was hung with a tattered black curtain or veil, which, despite the complete stillness of the cold surrounding air, was fluttering very slightly as though it had just been touched.

“Who’s there?” said Harry, jumping down onto the bench below. Sarah frowned and followed him, placing a hand gently on his arm as they walked towards the veil.

“Careful!” whispered Hermione.

Sarah and Harry scrambled down the benches one by one until they reached the stone bottom of the sunken pit. Their footsteps echoed loudly as they walked slowly toward the dais. The pointed archway looked much taller from where Sarah stood now than when she had been looking down on it from above. Still, the veil swayed gently, as though somebody had just passed through it.

“Sirius?” Harry spoke again, but much more quietly now that he was nearer.

Sarah had the strangest feeling that someone was waiting on the other side of the veil. She stepped around the archway but there was nobody there. She could have sworn she heard a faint whispering coming from behind the veil.

“Hello?” she said softly, taking a step closer.

“Let’s go,” Draco called from halfway up the stone steps. “This isn’t right. Sarah, Harry, come on, let’s go…”

He sounded scared, much more so than he had in the brain room. But Sarah couldn’t understand why. The whispers didn’t sound threatening – more, _welcoming_ …familiar.

“Somebody’s whispering,” murmured Sarah. “Can nobody else hear it?”

“I can…” said Harry. He put his foot on the dais.

“I can hear them too,” breathed Luna, joining them around the side of the archway and gazing at the swaying veil. “There are people _in there_!”

“ _In there_?” demanded Hermione. “There’s nothing in there – “

Sarah took a step closer and listened intently. Suddenly, she realised why the whispers sounded so familiar.

“We have to leave,” she gasped, taking a stumbling step backwards. She tugged on Harry’s arm and he looked down in confusion. “Now, we have to get out. _Now_.”

“What – why?” he asked.

“That’s not natural,” Sarah explained. “The voices – they sound like my mother.”

Harry’s eyes widened and someone gasped behind her.

“You’re right, we need to leave,” Harry said. He took hold of one of Luna’s arms and began leading the two girls back toward the others. “We’ve already wasted too much time. We need to find Sirius.”

Once more the wall spun and became still again. Harry approached a door at random and pushed. It did not move.

“What’s wrong?” asked Hermione.

“It’s…locked…” said Harry, throwing his weight against the door, but it did not budge.

“Harry, you said you just walked through the door,” Sarah said. “Don’t worry about this one. If we try the others and don’t find it, we’ll come back.”

Harry nodded and stepped away from the door. Draco put a different fiery mark on it to distinguish it from the others. The wall spun again and when it settled, Harry opened the next door.

“ _This is it_!”

Harry led the way forward down the narrow space between the lines of the desks, heading toward the source of light, which was coming from a towering crystal bell that stood at the far end of the room.

The jar was taller than Sarah and stood on a large desk. It appeared to be full of a billowing, glittering wind.

“Oh _look_!” said Ginny, as they drew nearer, pointing at the very heart of the bell jar.

Drifting along in the sparkling current inside was a tiny, jewel-bright egg. As it rose in the jar it cracked open and a hummingbird emerged, which was carried to the very top of the jar, but as it fell on the draft, its feathers became bedraggled and damp again, and by the time it had been borne back to the bottom of the jar it had been enclosed once more in its egg.

“Keep going!” said Harry sharply, because Ginny showed signs of wanting to stop and watch the egg’s progress back into a bird.

“You dawdled enough by that old arch!” she said crossly, but followed him anyway past the bell jar to the only door behind it.

“This is it,” Harry said again. “It’s through here – “

He glanced around at all of them. They all had their wands out and looked serious and anxious. Sarah nodded her head at him and he pushed open the door.

They were in a cavernous room with a high ceiling and full of nothing but towering shelves covered in small, dusty, glass orbs. They glimmered dully in the light issuing from more candle brackets set at intervals along the shelves. Like those in the circular room behind them, their flames were burning blue. The room was very cold.

Sarah edged forward and peered down one of the shadowy aisles between two rows of shelves. She could not hear anything nor see the slightest sign of movement.

“You said it was row ninety-seven,” whispered Hermione to Harry.

He nodded. “That’s fifty-four…” he said, pointing to the right. “And that’s fifty-three,” a nod to the left.

“Keep your wands out,” Draco advised.

They crept forward, staring behind them as they went on down the long alleys of shelves, the farther ends of which were in near-total darkness. Tiny, yellowing labels had been stuck beneath each glass orb on the shelf. Some of them had a weird, liquid glow; others were as dull and dark within as empty lanterns. They passed row eighty-four…eighty-five…Sarah was listening hard for the slightest sound of movement.

“Ninety-seven!” whispered Hermione.

They stood grouped around the end of the row, gazing down the alley beside it. There was nobody there.

“He’s right down the end,” said Harry. “You can’t see properly from here…”

Sarah shared a glance with Draco and gripped her wand tighter as Harry led them forward, between the towering rows of glass balls, some of which glowed softly as they passed…

“He should be near here,” whispered Harry. “Anywhere here…really close…”

But Sarah had noticed something odd. A tiny, peeling strip caught her eye and she stepped closer toward it. Behind her, Harry and Hermione began to argue about whether Sirius was there or not.

“Harry?” Sarah called when Harry went to look further down the corridor.

“What?”

“Come here,” she said softly. “It’s got your name on it.”

Harry moved closer and Sarah pointed to the label affixed to the shelf above her head. in spidery writing was written a date of some sixteen years previously, and below that S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D, Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter.

Harry stared at it.

“Anyone know what this is?” Sarah asked. “And why does it have Harry’s name on it?”

“No idea,” Draco said tensely. “But I don’t think anyone should touch it.”

“Why not?” Harry asked. “It’s something to do with me, isn’t it?”

“Don’t Harry,” said Neville suddenly. His round face was shining slightly with sweat. He looked as though he could not take much more suspense.

“It’s got my name on it,” said Harry.

“Yes, but – “ Draco started.

But Harry reached out and closed his fingers around the dusty ball’s surface. Nothing happened. Everyone moved closer around Harry, gazing at the orb as he brushed it free of the clogging dirt.

And then, from right behind them, came a horrible familiar drawling voice, “Very good, Potter. Now turn around, nice and slowly, and give that to me.”


	20. Chapter Twenty

Black shapes were emerging out of thin air all around them, blocking their way left and right; eyes glinted through slits in hoods, a dozen lit wand tips were pointing directly at their hearts. Ginny gave a gasp of horror.

“To me, Potter,” repeated the drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy as he held out his hand, palm up.

Sarah gripped Harry’s arm tightly.

“Don’t give it to him,” she hissed.

“Where’s Sirius?” Harry said loudly.

Several of the Death Eaters laughed. A harsh female voice from the midst of the shadowy figures to Sarah’s left said triumphantly, “The Dark Lord always knows!”

“Always,” echoed Malfoy softly. “Now, give me the prophecy, Potter.”

“I want to know where Sirius is!”

“ _I want to know where Sirius is!”_ mimicked the woman to the left. She and her fellow Death Eaters had closed in so that they were mere feet from Sarah and the others, the light from their wands dazzling Sarah’s eyes.

“You’ve got him,” bit out Harry. “He’s here’s. I know he is.”

Sarah felt sickening dread settle in her stomach. She began to tug Harry’s arm gently but he ignored her.

“ _The little baby woke up fwightened and fort what it dweamed was twoo,”_ said the woman in a horrible, mock-baby voice. Ron stirred behind Sarah.

“Don’t do anything,” Harry muttered. “Not yet – “

The woman who had mimicked him let out a raucous scream of laughter.

“You hear him? _You hear him_? Giving instructions to the other children as though he thinks of fighting us!”

“Oh, you don’t know Potter as I do, Bellatrix,” said Malfoy softly. “He has a great weakness for heroics; the Dark Lord understands this about him. _Now give me the prophecy, Potter.”_

Draco stiffened beside Sarah and wrapped a hand around the sleeve of her robes.

“I know Sirius is here,” said Harry, sounding slightly panicked. “ _I know you’ve got him!”_

More of the Death Eaters laughed, though Bellatrix still laughed loudest of all.

“It’s time you learned the difference between life and dreams, Potter,” said Malfoy. “Now give me the prophecy, or we start using wands.”

“Go on then,” said Harry, despite Sarah’s insistent tugging on his left arm. He raised his wand to chest height and Sarah and the others quickly followed.

But the Death Eaters did not strike.

“Hand over the prophecy and no one need get hurt,” said Malfoy coolly.

Sarah gasped slightly.

“Harry, they won’t risk destroying the prophecy,” Sarah muttered into his ear. “We need to use that to our advantage.”

“Whatever she’s telling you, you should probably listen,” sneered a new voice.

Everyone stiffened around them as a large body stepped up beside Lucius Malfoy.

“My daughter always seems to get out a sticky situation,” continued Antonius Deaumont. “We’ll just make sure you’re not so lucky this time! _Accio Proph – “_

“ _Protego!”_ shouted Draco. Harry scrambled to keep hold of the prophecy as Draco’s shield cut off Antonius’ spell.

“I TOLD YOU, NO!” Lucius Malfoy roared at Sarah’s father. “If you smash it – !”

Sarah’s mind was racing. The Death Eaters wanted the prophecy but Sarah knew Harry had no interest in it. The most important thing was getting everyone out of here alive.

Bellatrix Lestrange stepped forward and pulled off her hood. Azkaban had hollowed her face, making it gaunt and skull-like, but it was alive with a feverish, fanatical glow.

“You need more persuasion?” she said, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “Very well – take the smallest one,” she ordered the Death Eaters beside her. “Let him watch while we torture the little girl. I’ll do it.”

Everyone closed around Ginny and Luna. Harry clasped the prophecy close to this chest.

“You’ll have to smash this is you want to attack any of us,” he told Bellatrix. “I don’t think your boss will be too pleased if you come back without it, will he?”

She did not move; she merely stared at him, the tip of her tongue moistening her thin mouth.

“So,” said Sarah, “what kind of prophecy are we talking about anyway?”

All she could think of doing was keep talking. Neville’s arm was pressed against hers and she could feel him shaking. She was hoping the others were also thinking of ways to get out of this.

“What kind of prophecy?” repeated Bellatrix, the grin fading from her face. “You jest, little Deaumont.”

“Nope, not jesting,” said Sarah, her eyes flicking from Death Eater to Death Eater, looking for a weak link. “How come Voldemort wants it?”

Several of the Death Eaters let out low hisses.

“You dare speak his name?” whispered Bellatrix.

“Well, when you see him walking around barefoot with his pale twig feet, you’re less intimidated by the guy,” Sarah said with false confidence. “I’ve got no problem saying Vol – “

“Shut your mouth!” Bellatrix shrieked. “You dare speak his name with your unworthy lips, you dare besmirch it with your blood traitor tongue, you dare – “

“Did you know he’s a half-blood, like me?” said Harry recklessly. Draco gave a little moan beside Sarah. “Voldemort? Yeah, his mother was a witch but his dad was a Muggle – or has he been telling you lot he’s pureblood?”

“ _STUPEF_ – “

“ _NO_!”

A jet of red light had shot from the end of Bellatrix Lestrange’s wand, but Malfoy had deflected it. His spell caused hers to hit the shelf a foot to the left of Sarah and several of the glass orbs there shattered.

“DO NOT ATTACK! WE NEED THE PROPHECY!” shouted Lucius.

Sarah was thinking fast. She pressed her mouth closed to Harry’s ear.

“Aim for the shelves,” she hissed. “Then run.”

He nodded minutely and Sarah passed the message onto Draco and Neville, trusting them to get it to the others.

“You haven’t told me what’s so special about this prophecy I’m supposed to be handing over,” Harry said, playing for time.

“Dumbledore never told you the reason you bear that scar was hidden in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries?” said Malfoy sneeringly.

“I – what?” said Harry. “What about my scar?”

“Can this be?” said Malfoy, sounding maliciously delighted; some of the Death Eaters were laughing again, and under the cover of their laughter, Sarah heard Draco hiss, “On my signal – “

“Dumbledore never told you?” Malfoy repeated. “Well, this explains why you didn’t come earlier, Potter, the Dark Lord wondered why – “

“ – get ready – “

“ – Hasn’t Dumbledore told you why the Dark Lord tried to kill you as a baby?” Lucius taunted. Harry faltered in front of Sarah and she gripped his arm again.

“Don’t get distracted,” she hissed.

“Why couldn’t he get it himself?” Harry asked, voice shaking slightly.

Draco touched Sarah’s elbow lightly and she tightened her grip on her wand.

“Get it himself?" shrieked Bellatrix on a cackle of mad laughter. “The Dark Lord, walk into the Ministry of Magic – “

“NOW!” shouted Draco.

Eight different voices around Sarah bellowed “ _REDUCTO!_ ” Eight curses flew in eight different directions and the shelves opposite them exploded as they hit. The towering structure swayed as a hundred glass spheres burst apart, pearly-white figures unfurling into the air and muttering sinister whispers.

“RUN!” Harry yelled. He seized a handful of Sarah’s robes and dragged her forward. She ran with one arm over her head to protect it from the raining glass pieces. She felt Draco running close behind her. A hand suddenly her by the shoulder she heard Draco shout “ _Stupefy!”_ and the hand released her at once.

They were at the end of row ninety-seven; Harry turned right and began to sprint in earnest. Sarah grabbed Draco’s hand so they wouldn’t get separated. Distantly, she could hear Hermione urging on Neville. Harry pelted through the open door at the end of the corridor and Sarah, Draco, Hermione and Neville hurtled over the threshold. Draco slammed the door behind them –

“ _Colloportus!”_ gasped Hermione and the door sealed itself with an odd squelching noise.

“Where – where are the others?” gasped Harry.

“They must have gone the wrong way!” whispered Hermione, terror in her face.

“Listen!” whispered Neville.

Footsteps and shouts echoed from behind the door they had just sealed. Sarah put her ear close to the door to listen and heard Lucius Malfoy roar: “Leave Nott, _leave him, I say_ , the Dark Lord will not care for Nott’s injuries as much as losing that prophecy – Antonius, come back here, we need to organise! We’ll split into pairs and search, and don’t forget, be gentle with Potter until we’ve got the prophecy, you can kill the others is necessary – except Draco, bring him to me! Bellatrix, Rodolphus, you take the left, Crabbe, Rabastan, go right – Mulciber, Dolohov, the door straight ahead – Macnair and Avery, through here – Rookwood, over there – Antonius, come with me!”

“What do we do?” Hermione asked Harry, trembling from head to foot.

“Well, we don’t stand here waiting for them to find us, for a start,” said Harry. Let’s get away from this door…”

They ran, quietly as they could, past the shimmering bell jar where the tiny egg was hatching and unhatching, toward the exit into the circular hallway at the far end of the room. They were almost there when Sarah heard something large and heavy collide with the door Hermione had charmed shut.

“Stand aside!” said a rough voice. “ _Alohomora!”_

As the door flew open, the five of them dived under desks. They could see the bottom of the two Death Eaters’ robes drawing nearer, their feet moving rapidly.

“They must’ve run straight through to the hall,” said the rough voice.

“Check under the desks,” said another.

Sarah saw the knees of the Death Eaters bend. Suddenly, Harry’s voice shouted, “ _STUPEFY!”_

A jet of red light hit the nearest Death Eater; he fell backwards into a grandfather clock and knocked it over. The second Death Eater, however, had leapt aside to avoid Harry’s spell and now pointed his own wand at Sarah, who had crawled out from under the desk to get a better aim.

_“Avada – “_

Draco launched himself across the floor and grabbed the Death Eater around the knees, causing him to topple and his aim to go awry. Neville overturned his desk in his anxiety to help; pointing his own wand wildly at the struggling pair he cried, “ _EXPELLIARMUS!”_

Both Draco’s and the Death Eater’s wands flew out of their hands and soared back toward the entrance to the Hall of Prophecy; both scrambled to their feet and charged after them, the Death Eater in front and Draco hot on his heels, Neville bringing up the rear, plainly horror-struck at what he had done.

“Get out of the way, Draco!” yelled Neville, clearly determined to repair the damage.

Draco flung himself sideways as Neville took aim again and shouted, “ _STUPEFY_!”

The jet of red light flew over the Death Eater’s shoulder hit a glass-fronted cabinet on the wall. The Death Eater snatched up his wand, which lay on the floor beside the glittering bell jar. Draco ducked down behind another desk as the man turned – his mask had slipped so that he could not see, he ripped it off with his free hand and shouted, “ _STUP – “_

“ _STUPEFY!”_ screamed Sarah, who had just caught up to them, Hermione hot on her heels. The jet of red light hit the Death Eater in the middle of his chest; he froze, his arm still raised, his wand fell to the floor with a clatter and he collapsed backwards toward the bell jar. Sarah expected to hear a _clunk_ , for the man to hit solid glass and slide off the har onto the floor, but instead, his head sank through the surface of the bell jar as though it was nothing but a soap bubble and he came to rest, sprawled on his back on the table, with his head lying inside the jar full of glittering wind.

“ _Accio Wand!”_ cried Hermione. Draco’s wand flew from a dark corner into her hand and she threw it to him.

“Thanks,” he said, “right, let’s get out of – “

“Look out!” said Neville, horrified, staring at the Death Eater’s head in the bell jar.

All five of them raised their wands again, but none of them struck. They were all gazing, open-mouthed, appalled, at what was happening to the man’s head.

It was shrinking very fast, growing balder and balder, the black hair and stubble retracting into his skull, his cheeks smooth, his skull round and covered with a peachlike fuzz…

A baby’s head now sat grotesquely on top of the thick, muscled neck of the Death Eater as he struggled to get up again. But even as they watched, their mouths open, the head began to swell to its previous proportions again, thick black hair was sprouting from the pate and chin…

“It’s time,” said Hermione in an awestruck voice. “ _Time…”_

The Death Eater shook his ugly head again, trying to clear it, but before he could pull himself together, it began to shrink back to babyhood once more…

There was a shout from a room nearby, then a crash and a scream.

“RON?” Harry yelled, turning quickly from the monstrous transformation taking place before them. “GINNY? LUNA?”

“Harry!” Sarah shouted.

The Death Eater had pulled his head out of the bell jar. His appearance was utterly bizarre, his tiny baby’s head bawling loudly while his thick arms flailed dangerously in all directions. Sarah didn’t think, she just raised her wand and shouted a Stunning spell, hitting the man directly in the chest and causing him to collapse to the ground.

Hermione gasped at her, “You can’t hurt a baby!”

Sarah just gaped.

“That doesn’t matter!” she exclaimed. “He’s trying to _kill_ us!”

There was no time to argue the point further. Sarah could hear footsteps growing louder from the Hall of Prophecy they had just left and knew too late, that Harry ought not to have shouted and given away their position.

“Come on!” Draco said, leading the way to the end of the room, back into the black hallway.

They had run halfway toward it when Sarah saw through the open door two more Death Eaters running across the black room toward them. Veering left she burst into a small, dark, cluttered office and slammed the door behind them.

“ _Collo_ – “ began Hermione, but before she could complete the spell the door had burst open again and two Death Eaters had come hurtling inside. With a cry of triumph, both yelled, “ _IMPEDIMENTA!”_

Sarah, Draco, Harry, Hermione and Neville were all knocked backwards off their feet. Neville was thrown over the desk and disappeared from view, Hermione and Draco smashed into a bookcase and was promptly deluged in a cascade of heavy books; the back of Harry’s head slammed into the stone wall behind him and Sarah crashed into his body, hitting her left arm painfully against the corner of the desk.

“WE’VE GOT HIM!” yelled the Death Eater nearest Harry and Sarah, “IN AN OFFICE OFF – “

 _”Silencio!”_ cried Draco, and the man’s voice was extinguished. He continued to mouth through the hole in his mask, but no sound came out; he was thrust aside by his fellow.

“ _Petrificus Totalus!”_ shouted Sarah, as the second Death Eater raised his wand. His arms and legs snapped together and he fell forward, facedown onto the rug at Sarah’s feet, stiff as a board and unable to move at all.

“Well done, Sa – “

But the Death Eater Hermione had just silenced made a slashing movement with his wand from which flew a streak of what looked like purple flame. It passed right across Hermione’s chest; she gave a tiny “oh!” as though of surprise and then crumpled onto the floor where she lay motionless.

“HERMIONE!”

Harry fell to his knees beside her as Neville crawled rapidly toward her from under the desk, his wand held up in front of him. Sarah scrambled to help Draco out from under the pile of books. The Death Eater kicked out hard at Neville’s head as he emerged – his foot broke Neville’s wand in two and connected with his face – Neville gave a howl of pain and recoiled, clutching his nose and mouth. Sarah twisted around, her own wand high and saw that the Death Eater had ripped off his mask and was pointing his wand directly at Sarah, who recognised the long, pale twisted face from the Malfoy parties as well as the _Daily Prophet_ : Antonin Dolohov, the wizard who had murdered the Prewetts.

Dolohov grinned. With his free hand, he pointed from the prophecy still clutched in Harry’s hand, to himself, then at Hermione. Sarah scowled and screamed, “ _STUPEFY_!” The jet of light hit the Death Eater in his head and he crumpled to the ground.

“Hermione,” Harry said at once, shaking her still body. “Hermione, wake up…”

Sarah dropped to her knees beside them as Draco took guard of the door. She grasped Hermione’s wrist and sighed in relief when she felt the pulse flickering weakly beneath her fingertips.

“She’s alive,” Sarah said. She concentrated for a moment and then waved her wand in the complicated motion Madam Pomfrey had taught her. Hermione’s body shimmered as the Stasis Charm settled into place. “She’s stable but she’ll need proper help as soon as possible,” she announced.

Harry nodded grimly. “We need to get moving.”

“We’ll dake her wid us,” said Neville firmly. “I’ll carry her – you’re bedder at fighding dem dan I ab – “

He and Neville stood up. Neville seized one of Hermione’s arms and Harry helped him hoist her limp form over his shoulders. Harry snatched up Hermione’s wand and shoved it into Neville’s hand.

“Neville, wait, here,” Sarah said. She pointed her wand at Neville’s face and said, ” _Episky_!” The bone cracked into place and Neville winced. “Sorry about that but it’ll make it easier for you to cast.”

“Thanks,” Neville said weakly.

They crept out of the office and back toward the door into the black hallway, which now seemed completely deserted. They walked a few steps forward, Neville tottering slightly due to Hermione’s weight. The door of the Time Room swung shut behind them, and the walls began to rotate once more. Harry stumbled slightly and Draco grabbed him by the waist.

“Harry?” he asked in concern.

“I’m okay,” grunted Harry, leaning against Draco. “I just hit my head earlier.”

Before anyone could reply, a door to their right sprang open and three people fell out of it.

“Ron!” croaked Harry, dashing toward them. “Ginny – are you all - ?”

“Harry,” said Ron, giggling weakly, lurching forward, seizing the front of Harry’s robes and gazing at him with unfocused eyes. “There are you…Ha ha ha…You look funny, Harry…You’re all messed up…”

Ron’s face was very white and blood was trickling from the corner of his mouth. Next moment his knees had given way, but she still clutched the front of Harry’s robes, so that Harry was pulled into a kind of bow. Draco supported the pair while trying to pull Ron to his feet.

“Ginny?” Sarah said fearfully. “What happened?”

But Ginny shook her head and slid down the wall into a sitting position, panting and holding her ankle.

“I think her ankle’s broken, I heard something crack,” whispered Luna, who was bending over her and who along seemed to be unhurt. Sarah rushed over to Ginny and immediately began examining her ankle. “Four of them chased us into a dark room full of planets, it was a very odd place, some of the time we were just floating in the dark – “

“Harry, we saw Uranus up close!” said Ron, still giggling feebly. “Get it, Harry? We saw Uranus – ha ha ha – “

A bubble of blood grew at the corner of Ron’s mouth and burst.

“Anyway, one of them grabbed Ginny’s foot, I used the Reductor Curse and blew up Pluto in his face, but…”

Luna gestured hopelessly at Ginny, who was breathing in a very shallow way, her eyes still closed.

Sarah pursed her lips and sat back. “I can’t risk fixing that and setting it wrong,” she explained. “But I’ll splint it and help with the pain. Try not to put too much pressure on it, though.” A few waves of her wand and Ginny let out a sigh of relief, gingerly getting to her feet. “Luna,” Sarah added to the blond girl, “try to help her as much as you can.”

Luna nodded and wrapped an arm around the other girl.

“And what about Ron?” asked Harry, as Ron continued to giggle, still hanging onto the front of Harry’s robes despite Draco’s best efforts to pry his hands off them.

“I don’t know what they hit him with,” said Luna sadly, “but he’s gone a bit funny, I could hardly get him along at all…”

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Draco said. “Sarah, you and I will take the front and rear while the others go in the middle.”

They began to shuffle toward a door; they were within a few feet of it when another door across the hall burst open and three Death Eaters sped into the hall, led by Bellatrix Lestrange.

“ _There they are_!” she shrieked.

“GO, GO, GO!” screamed Sarah, whirling around with her wand raised. She put up a Shield as Stunning Spells shot across the room towards them. Behind her, Harry smashed his way through the door ahead, Ron leaning on his shoulder. Neville stumbled quickly behind with Hermione, Draco supporting them, with Luna and Ginny hobbling after them. Sarah shouted, “ _REDUCTO_!” and then leapt backwards, Draco slamming the door shut behind her.

“ _Colloportus!”_ shouted Harry, and they heard three bodies slam into the door on the other side.

“It doesn’t matter!” said a man’s voice as they all scrambled away from the door. “There are other ways in – WE’VE GOT THEM, THEY’RE HERE!”

Sarah spun around. They were back in the Brain Room and, sure enough, there were doors all around the walls. She could hear footsteps in the hall behind them as more Death Eaters came running to join the first.

“Luna – Harry – Draco – help me!”

The four of them tore around the room, sealing the doors as they went: Sarah crashed into a table and rolled over the top of it in her haste to reach the next door.

_“Collo – aaaaaaargh!”_

Sarah turned in time to see Draco flying through the air, slamming hard into the far wall. He slid down to the ground in an unmoving heap. Five Death Eaters were surging through the door he had not reached in time.

“Get Potter!” shrieked Bellatrix, and she ran at him. He dodged her and sprinted back up the room to stand in front of Draco’s prone body.

“Hey!” said Ron, who had staggered to his feet and was now tottering drunkenly toward Sarah, giggling. “Hey, Sarah, there are _brains_ in here, ha ha ha, isn’t that weird, Sarah?”

“Ron, get out of the way, get down – “

But Ron had already pointed his wand at the tank.

“Honest, Sarah, they’re brains – look – _Accio Brain!”_

The scene seemed momentarily frozen. Sarah, Harry, Ginny, Luna, Neville and each of the Death Eaters turned in spite of themselves to watch the top of the tank as a brain burst from the green liquid like a leaping fish. For a moment, it seemed suspended in midair, then it soared toward Ron, spinning as it came, and what looked like ribbons of moving images flew from it, unravelling like rolls of film – “

“Ha ha ha, Sarah, look at it – “ said Ron, watching it disgorge its gaudy innards. “Sarah, come and touch it, bet it’s weird – “

“RON, NO!”

Sarah did not know what would happen if Ron touched the tentacles of thought now flying behind the brain, but she was sure it would not be anything good. She darted forward but Ron had already caught the brain in his outstretched hands.

The moment they made contact with his skin, the tentacles began wrapping themselves around Ron’s arms like ropes.

“Sarah, look what’s happen – no – no, I don’t like it – no, stop – _stop_ – “

But the thin ribbons were spinning around Ron’s chest now. He tugged and tore at them as the brain was pulled right against him like an octopus’s body.

“ _Diffindo_!” yelled Sarah, trying to sever the feelers wrapping themselves tightly around Ron before her eyes, but they would not break. Ron fell over, still thrashing against his bonds.

Sarah, it’ll suffocate him!” screamed Ginny, immobilised by her injured ankle on the floor – then a jet of red light flew from one of the Death Eater’s wands and hit her squarely in the face. She keeled over sideways and lay there unconscious.

“ _STUPEFY!”_ Sarah screamed, pointing her wand at the advancing Death Eaters. “ _STUPEFY! STUPEFY!_ ”

Harry, Neville, Luna and Sarah were now the only ones left fighting the Death Eaters, two of whom sent streams of silver light like arrows past them that left craters in the wall behind them. Luna was thrown off her feet and hit her head against the wall, crumpling to the ground, groaning.

Harry ran for it as Bellatrix Lestrange sprinted right at him. Holding the prophecy high above his head he sprinted back up the room, distracting the Death Eaters and drawing them away from the others. Sarah raced over to Luna and said, _“Rennervate!”_

The girl’s pale eyes fluttered open. “Luna, stay with the others and help them out into the main room if you can. We have to go help Harry.” She nodded and Sarah ran away. Inwardly praying that Harry was still okay, Sarah jumped through the door that he had run through and felt the floor vanish –

She was falling down steep stone steps, bouncing on every tier until at last, with a crash that knocked all the breath out of her body, she landed flat on her back in the sunken pit where the stone archway stood on its dais. For a moment, she could only groan and blink away stars. The whole room was ringing with the Death Eater’s laughter and Harry’s worried shouts.

Sarah got shakily to her feet. Harry stepped beside her and the two of them stood facing the oncoming Death Eaters. Miraculously, the prophecy was still undamaged in Harry’s left hand.

The Death Eaters halted, gazing at them. Some were panting as hard as Sarah was. One was bleeding badly; Dolohov, free of the full Body-Bind, was leering, his wand pointing straight at Sarah’s face.

“Potter, your race is run,” drawled Lucius Malfoy, pulling off his mask. “Now hand me the prophecy like a good boy…”

“Let – let the others go, and I’ll give it to you!” said Harry desperately.

A few of the Death Eaters laughed.

“You are not in a position to bargain, Potter,” said Antonius Deaumont, his pale face flushed with pleasure. “You see, there are ten of us and only one of you…or hasn’t Dumbledore ever taught you how to count?”

“He’s not alone!” shouted Sarah. She brandished her wand at her father. He smirked.

“Sarah, dear, don’t fight this losing battle,” he leered. “Give us that prophecy or we’ll kill each and every last one of you.”

“Never,” Neville yelled, his voice cracking. He was standing behind the Death Eaters at the top of the room and held Hermione’s wand high, his hand shaking violently and causing the wand to jump up and down.

Several of the Death Eaters laughed. Two of them grabbed him before he could utter any spells.

“It’s Longbottom, isn’t it?” sneered Lucius Malfoy. “Well, your grandmother is used to losing family members to our cause…Your death will not come as a great shock…”

“Longbottom?” repeated Bellatrix, and a truly evil smile lit her gaunt face. “Why, I have had the pleasure of meeting your parents, boy…”

Neville lunged forward and struggled against the hands holding him. He fought so hard that one of the Death Eaters shouted, “Someone Stun him!”

“No, no, no,” said Bellatrix. She looked transported, alive with excitement as she glanced at Sarah and Harry, then back at Neville. “No, let’s see how long Longbottom lasts before he cracks like his parents…Unless Potter wants to give us the prophecy – “

“DON’T GIVE IT TO THEM!” roared Neville, who seemed beside himself, kicking and writhing as Bellatrix drew nearer to him and his captors, her wand raised. “DON’T GIVE IT TO THEM, HARRY!”

Bellatrix raised her wand. “ _Crucio!”_

Neville screamed, his legs drawn up to his chest so that the Death Eater holding him was momentarily holding him off the ground. The Death Eater dropped him and he fell to the floor, twitching and screaming in agony.

“That was just a taster!” said Bellatrix, raising her wand so that Neville’s screams stopped and he lay sobbing at her feet. She turned and gazed down at Harry. “Now, Potter, either give us the prophecy or watch your little friend die the hard way!”

Harry glanced at Sarah and then held out the prophecy. Malfoy jumped forward to take it.

Then, high above them, two more doors burst open and five more people sprinted into the room: Sirius, Remus, Moody, Tonks, and Kingsley.

Malfoy turned and raised his wand, but Tonks had already sent a Stunning Spell right at him. Sarah did not wait to see whether it had made contact, but dived off the dais out of the way, dragging Harry with her. The Death Eaters were completed distracted by the appearance of the members of the Order, who were now raining spells down upon them as they jumped from step to step toward the sunken floor: through the darting bodies, the flashes of light, Sarah could see Neville crawling along. She dodged another jet of red light and flung herself flat on the ground to reach Neville, harry right behind her.

“Are you okay?” she yelled, as another spell soared inches over their heads.

“Yes,” said Neville, trying to pull himself up.

“And Ron?” Harry asked.

“I think he’s all right – Luna was helping him when I left – “

The stone floor between them exploded as a spell hit it, leaving a crater right where Neville’s hand had been seconds before. Both scrambled away from the spot, then a thick arm came out of nowhere, seized Sarah around the neck and pulled her upright so that her toes were barely touching the floor.

“Give the prophecy to me,” growled her father’s voice at Harry, “or she dies – “

Her father was pressing so tightly against Sarah’s windpipe that she could not breath – through watering eyes she saw Sirius duelling with a Death Eater some ten feet away, Kingsley was fighting two at once; Tonks, still halfway up the tiered seats, was firing spells down at Bellatrix – nobody seemed to realise that Sarah, Harry and Neville were cornered.

Then, suddenly, both Neville and Harry leapt forward and knocked Antonius over. He released Sarah from his grip and Neville pulled her out of the way.

“Run!” he shouted, dragging her along as she held her throat and gasped for breath. Harry shot Stunning Spells blindly over his shoulder as they all raced toward the dais.

“ _Tarantallegra!”_ shouted a sudden voice and Neville’s legs began to dance violently in a frenzied tap, unbalancing him and causing him to fall to the floor again.

Sarah spun to see Dolohov making the same slashing movement that caused Hermione to collapse, she went to jump out of the way just as Harry yelled, “ _Protego_!”

She felt something streak across his face like a blunt knife but the force of it knocked her sideways, and she fell over Neville’s jerking legs, but the Shield Charm had stopped the worst of the spell.

Dolohov raised his wand again as Harry reached down to help Sarah to her feet. “ _Accio Prop – “_

Sirius hurtled out of nowhere, rammed Dolohov with his shoulder, and sent him flying out of the way. The prophecy had again flown to the tips of Harry’s fingers but he had managed to cling to it. Now Sirius and Dolohov were duelling, their wands flashing like swords, sparks flying from their wand tips –

Harry jumped up to help Sirius as Sarah heaved Neville to his feet. “ _Finite!”_ she shouted but the spell missed as Neville lurched again.

“Harry, grab them and run!” Sirius yelled, dashing to meet Bellatrix. Harry grabbed Neville’s other side and pulled them out of the way as a jet of green light shot toward them.

Out of nowhere, a man lunged at them. They all fell backwards, Neville’s legs waving wildly. Suddenly, they kicked Harry’s hand and the prophecy went flying from his grasp.

“No!” he gasped, as the glass orb fell to the ground and shattered, thousands of tiny glass pieces raining everywhere.

Sarah was dragged backwards by a rough hand at her neck. She kicked and screamed against her captor, who just laughed and continued to haul her toward the dais.

Suddenly, a spell hit the man holding her and she fell from his grasp. She looked up to see Draco leaning heavily against the doorway into the room, his arm falling limply to his side, wand clasped tight. Sarah straightened and sent a Stunner at the Death Eater, who collapsed to the ground. She looked around and saw that Harry and Neville were still struggling against Neville’s dancing legs.

“SARAH, DUCK!” shouted Remus from somewhere behind her.

She dropped to the ground and rolled away, throwing spell after spell as she stood up. Somehow, she found herself standing near Sirius, the dark-haired man laughing loudly as he shot spells out of his wand.

“DUMBLEDORE!”

The sudden shout came from Neville, who was pointing wildly at the figure of Albus Dumbledore, standing in the entrance to the Brain Room in front of Draco’s sagging body. Dumbledore sped down the steps past Neville and Harry, and the Death Eaters began to realise he was there. There were yells; one of the Death Eaters ran for it, scrabbling like a monkey up the stone steps opposite. Dumbledore’s spell pulled him back as easily and effortlessly as though he had hooked him with an invisible line –

A spell shot passed Sarah’s ear and she spun around to find her father smirking at her.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he drawled, throwing another spell her way.

“Father,” she said, dodging the jet of light and sending one of her own back.

It clipped Antonius on the shoulder and he scowled. “You’re not getting away this time,” he growled and he began fighting in earnest.

Sarah threw Shield Charm after Shield Charm, attacking whenever she could. She began to move around the dais, trying to put her father’s back to the centre to give her more space to manoeuvre.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah saw Sirius duck Bellatrix’s jet of red light: he was laughing at her. “Come on, you can do better than that!” he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.

The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest.


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> he he he sorry about that cliffhanger xx

Sarah screamed and leapt forward as a jet of light came flying toward him. Sirius took a halting step backwards just as Sarah reached him. She grasped tightly onto his arm and pulled him to the ground as the jet of light flew over their heads.

She glanced up to watch as it found its mark right in the centre of her father’s chest. He barely had time to look shocked before he began to fall, his body arching backwards and through the fluttering veil, disappearing from sight.

Her ears began ringing as she got to her feet, staggering unsteadily toward the veil. Distantly, she heard someone shouting Harry’s name and the sound of running footsteps but she paid them no mind.

“F-Father…?” she gasped out. She took another step toward the veil and looking around the archway, sure that her father would be lying on the other side. Her wand was held out in front of her, shaking somewhat. “Where - ?”

A hand suddenly gripped her arm.

“Sarah, come on,” Remus said, pulling her gently away from the archway.

“But,” she said in confusion. “But – where is he? He should be there – why – why isn’t he there?”

“Sarah, it’s going to be okay,” whispered Remus. He turned her around and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“But what happened?” she asked, shaking her head slightly. “Remus, what happened?”

Remus hesitated and tightened his grip around her. She looked at his face to find that he was already looking at her, a sad expression on his face.

“Sarah…” he said slowly. “Your father is gone.”

Sarah sucked in a sharp breath and looked behind her at the archway.

“Gone?” she asked, turning back to Remus. “As in…as in, dead?” He nodded and watched her carefully. She felt surprisingly numb. “Okay,” she whispered. “Okay…” She took a deep breath and pushed it from the back of her mind. “Where are the others?” she asked, her voice strong.

Remus eyed her for a moment longer before answering, “Harry raced out of the room after Bellatrix – I think he thought that she killed Sirius with that spell. Dumbledore went after them after he secured the Death Eaters. Kingsley is dealing with them now. Your friends are okay, Tonks is checking on them now.”

Sarah nodded. “How’s Sirius?” she asked.

Remus frowned. “Still out cold,” he said. “But thanks to you, alive.”

Sarah nodded again. Suddenly, she sagged, her muscles losing all their strength. Remus grabbed her and lowered her carefully to sit on one of the steps.

“Are you all right?” he asked worriedly. “Is anything injured?”

“I’m fine,” she said softly. But her eyes pricked with tears. She placed her head in her hands and tried to hold back the sobs that threatened to break out from her.

“Sarah…” Remus muttered, rubbing up and down her back. “It’s okay to be upset – you just lost your father….”

“I hated him!” she exclaimed, her voice thick with emotion. “I _hated_ him and he wanted to kill me – fuck, he tried, _multiple_ times! I – I d-don’t know – w-why I’m sad!” Hot tears fell onto her hands as Remus held her, whispering quietly as he stroked her hair.

“Sarah, he was your father,” he said calmingly. “No one is going to blame you for grieving when it happened right in front of you.”

Sarah nodded and fell deeper into her godfather’s embrace.

“He’s really gone,” she choked out. “He’s really, _really_ gone.”

She felt Remus nod above her. Slowly, she began to steady her breathing until the tears subsided.

“I’ll – I’ll be okay,” she said, wiping her eyes and straightening.

“You sure?” Remus checked.

Sarah nodded and smiled up at him weakly.

“Yes,” she confirmed. She stood up and pocketed her wand. “Let’s go find the others.”

***

They found Draco, Ginny, Luna, Neville, Hermione and Ron being led out into the entrance corridor of the Department by various members of the Order. Hermione and Ron were on stretchers, both unconscious. Ron had great, winding red wounds on his arms where the brain’s tentacles had latched onto him and Hermione was deathly still.

“Are they going to be okay?” Sarah asked anxiously.

Tonks nodded. “We’re taking them straight to Madam Pomfrey, we want everyone to get examined as well.”

“I healed Neville’s broken nose but it was messy,” Sarah told her, rattling off the injuries, “and I splinted Ginny’s foot but I didn’t want to make it worse. Is the Stasis Charm around Hermione still active? How are Draco’s and Luna’s heads? Are they concussed? I think Harry has a concussion – “

“Sarah, breath,” Remus said, smiling slightly. “Everyone will be fine. You all did an amazing job holding out for as long as you did.”

Sarah frowned. “Harry’s going to be feeling extremely guilty about this,” she said. “We even tried to make sure it was true before rushing off. How did you find out? Did Snape tell you?”

Remus nodded. “Severus got a message to us and we came as soon as we could. You should sit down.”

He led her to where Draco and Luna were sitting, leaning against each other.

“Sarah!” Draco exclaimed when he saw her. “Thank Merlin you’re all right!”

“The same for you,” she said in relief, dropping down beside him. “You took a nasty hit – both of you,” she added to Luna. “Are you feeling all right?”

They both nodded. Luna smiled sadly at her. “I’m sorry about your father, Sarah. I know you two didn’t get along but I’m still sorry for your loss.”

Sarah smiled weakly at the other girl. “Thanks, Luna.”

Draco was watching her in worry. “Kingsley told us,” he explained when Sarah turned to look at him. “Once Tonks revived us we wanted to know if anyone else had been injured.” He sighed and put his head on Sarah’s shoulder. “Have you heard anything about Harry?” he asked.

Sarah shook her head. “No, but I hope he’s all right.”

At that moment, Kingsley walked into the corridor and cleared his throat. Everyone immediately stopped talking and looked at him.

“You-Know-Who has fled after fighting Dumbledore,” he said in his deep, calming voice. “The Minister and Ministry workers appeared in the Atrium and saw him. Dumbledore is dealing with them now. He has sent Harry back to Hogwarts via Portkey. We’ll all head there now and get the children to Poppy.”

They all seemed to let out a shared sighed of relief.

“Was Harry okay?” Draco called to Kingsley, getting to his feet.

Kingsley turned toward him. “Unfortunately, I do not know. Dumbledore sent me his patronus after Harry had left.”

Draco looked downcast but nodded anyway, helping Sarah and then Luna to their feet. Kingsley held out a large metal rod.

“This will take you directly into the hospital wing,” he explained, passing the rod to Remus. “Poppy is expecting you.”

Everyone gathered around Remus and placed a finger on the rod. Tonks held Hermione tightly and Remus held Ron. Remus tapped the rod with his wand and it began to glow. Sarah felt the familiar tugging feeling at her navel and they disappeared in a whirl of colour.

***

They appeared in the middle of the hospital ward and were immediately swept into action by Madam Pomfrey, Tonks and Remus. Sirius, Moody and Kingsley arrived shortly after them and before long, everyone who was injured was securely placed in a bed. Sarah flittered back and forth between beds, helping Madam Pomfrey hand out potions and perform complicated spells. It was only when Madam Pomfrey went to tap Sarah on her left arm that she remembered she had injured it.

“You’re hurt!” Madam Pomfrey stated angrily. “Down, down. I don’t want to see you walking around until that arm is better! You fractured it, young lady!”

So Sarah was forced to be bedridden while Madam Pomfrey observed Hermione, Ron and Sirius’ conditions. Remus listened in amusement as Sarah declared that if Madam Pomfrey spared ten seconds to fix Sarah’s arm, she could be helping the nurse and making it easier for everyone.

Remus merely rolled his eyes and patted her hand gently before walking off to talk with Sirius, who had just awoken.

Finally, Madam Pomfrey came over to treat Sarah’s arm. The nurse barely hid a smirk as she tapped her wand against Sarah’s arm and said, “All done, now.’

Sarah rolled her eyes and jumped from the bed.

At that moment, the doors opened and Harry pushed into the room, head down and face pale.

“Harry!” Draco exclaimed, vaulting off his bed and rushing into his boyfriend’s arms. “I was so worried!”

Harry held Draco tightly as Sarah ran up to him.

“Everyone’s okay!” she said quickly, waving her wand around his head to check if he had a concussion. Luckily, he seemed fine, just exhausted. “Madam Pomfrey is looking after Ron and Hermione but everyone else is fine.”

“But – Sirius - ?” Harry said uncertainly.

“Is as annoying as ever,” Sarah assured, looking over her shoulder.

“Oi, I heard that!” shouted Sirius.

Sarah gave him the finger in response.

She turned back to see Harry’s face light up in joy.

“I thought – I thought – “ he stammered.

Sarah shook her head. “Sirius was just hit with a Stunner,” she explained.

“So there were no casualties?” Harry said in relief.

Draco hesitated with a glance toward Sarah.

“Not from us,” she said evenly. “My father got hit by Bellatrix’s next spell and fell into the veil.”

“So, he’s…” Harry trailed off.

“Dead,” Sarah nodded.

Harry’s face fell. “I’m sorry, Sarah.”

“Don’t be,” Sarah said, shaking her head. “He was a horrible bastard and I’ll be much better off without him threatening my life every day.”

Harry still looked uncertain so Sarah punched him in the arm and rolled her eyes.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get you in a bed and have Madam Pomfrey look you over.”

***

“There you are, Harry, I knew they’d drag you into it somehow,” said Hermione, looking over Sarah’s shoulder at the _Daily Prophet_ she had spread across her lap.

They were in the hospital wing. Harry was sitting on the end of Ron’s bed beside Draco and they were listening as Sarah read the newest article about Voldemort’s return from the paper on Hermione’s bed. Ginny, whose ankle had been mended in a trice by Madam Pomfrey, was lounging on a chair beside Hermione’s bed; Neville, whose nose had likewise been properly fixed, was seated next to her. Luna was sitting cross-legged on the floor between the two beds, clutching the latest edition of _The Quibbler._

“He’s ‘the Boy Who Lived’ again now, though, isn’t he?” said Ron darkly. “Not such a show-off maniac anymore, eh?”

“Yes, they’re very complimentary about you now, Harry,” observed Sarah as she scanned the article. “Honestly, it’s a load of rubbish. I’d prefer to read that quiz you have Luna.”

“I just wish I could get out of here,” Hermione grumbled. “I’m so bored. What’s been happening in the school now that Dumbledore’s back?”

“Well, Flitwick got rid of Fred and George’s swamp,” Ginny said. “Although, he did leave a small section; said it was an ingenious piece of spellwork.”

“I hope he didn’t try too hard,” Sarah commented absently. “I would have given him the counterspell had I known.”

She glanced up at see everyone staring at her.

“What?”

“You knew how to get rid of it the entire time?” Ron said in disbelief.

“Of course,” Sarah said, slightly surprised. “I mean, I was there when they created it. Plus, Fred always gives me the counter-products.”

Ron and Ginny gaped at her.

“That’s so unfair!” Ron gasped. “George put a Canary Cream in my breakfast before they left and you’re telling me you always have the antidote on you?”

Sarah smirked. “You made an adorable Canary, though.”

Neville spoke up before Ron could snap back at her.

“Harry, did Dumbledore ever tell you what was in that prophecy?”

All heads turned to the dark-haired boy, who grimaced.

“Er – No…” he muttered. “I didn’t give him much of an opportunity to…”

“It’s a pity it broke,” said Hermione quietly, shaking her head.

“Not really,” Draco said. “I think it’s better that Voldemort won’t be able to get his hands on whatever was in it. It certainly can’t have been anything good.”

Harry looked shiftily away and Sarah narrowed her eyes at him.

“You know what?” she said suddenly, standing up. “I forgot that I promised to write a letter to Remus. Harry, he wanted to hear from you as well.”

Harry looked at her and seemed to immediately guess that she wanted to talk.

“All right,” he agreed, kissing Draco’s cheek quickly. “Bye, everyone.”

They all uttered goodbyes as Sarah led Harry out of the hospital wing.

“Dumbledore _did_ tell you what was in the prophecy, didn’t he?” Sarah asked once they were alone.

Harry sighed deeply but nodded.

“And it must have been bad,” continued Sarah. “That’s why you haven’t wanted to tell any of us, including Draco.”

Harry nodded again.

“It’s okay,” assured Sarah. “You don’t have to tell us unless you want to.”

“It basically sums up to the fact that ‘Neither can live while the other survives’,” muttered Harry unexpectedly. Sarah blinked in surprise but motioned for him to continue. “It means I’ll have to be the one to kill Voldemort someday or else he’ll kill me.”

“Well, then…” Sarah said, stumped for thought. “I guess we’ll just have to make sure you can defeat him.”

Harry smiled weakly. “Can we leave that as a problem for another day?” he asked. “And just go home and rest?”

Sarah grinned at him. “Don’t think that this is getting you out of cleaning duties,” she smirked.

Harry laughed loudly.

“Come on, darling,” Sarah quipped. “We’ve got a fake letter to write.”

***

The journey home on the Hogwarts Express the next day was eventful in several ways. Firstly, Crabbe and Goyle, who had clearly been waiting all week for the opportunity to strike without teacher witnesses, attempted to ambush Harry and Sarah halfway down the train, angry that the pair was the reason why their fathers were in Azkaban. The attack might have succeeded had it not been for the fact that they unwittingly chose to stage it right outside a compartment full of D.A members, who saw what was happening through the glass and rose as one to rush to Harry and Sarah’s aid. By the time Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Anthony Goldstein, and Terry Boot had finished using a wide variety of the hexes and jinxes Harry had taught them, Crabbe and Goyle resembled nothing so much as two gigantic slugs squeezed into Hogwarts uniforms as Harry, Ernie and Justin hoisted them into the luggage rack and left them there to ooze.

“I must say, I’m looking forward to seeing Goyle’s mother’s face when he gets off the train,” said Ernie with some satisfaction, as he watched Goyle squirm above him.

Sarah and Harry thanked the others and returned to their own cabin, where they quickly explained the encounter over a large pile of Cauldron Cakes and Pumpkin Pasties.

As the train slowed down in the approach to King’s Cross, Sarah looked around the cabin at her friends. They had come so close to losing one another in the Department of Mysteries. Sarah was determined to make sure that never happened again. And if it did, she wanted to ensure they were prepared for anything thrown their way.

When their group crossed through the barrier between platforms nine and ten, they found a surprise waiting for them: Remus was waiting alongside Tonks, Mad-Eye Moody and Mrs Weasley, with Sirius leaning against his boyfriend, smirking at the teenagers.

“Sirius, what are you doing here?” Sarah exclaimed, looking around wildly. None of the Muggles seemed to notice their group but Sarah was still worried that someone would be shouting about an escaped murderer on the middle of the platform.

“Aw, and here I was thinking you’d be happy to see me,” pouted Sirius. Remus rolled his eyes fondly at him.

“Fudge cleared the charges against Sirius,” Remus explained. “They’ve spent the past few days making sure everyone knows he was wrongfully imprisoned.”

“That’s right,” Sirius said excitedly. “I’m a free man!”

He stepped forward and threw his arms around Draco and Harry’s shoulders, rubbing each other their heads vigorously.

“Means I’m now free to access my vaults as well as walk through London,” he continued gleefully. “I haven’t felt this alive in years!”

Sarah, Harry and Draco were gaping at him.

“That’s amazing!” squealed Sarah. “What was Fudge threatened with? Forced abdication? Abdominal disembowelment? Bowler hat banishment?”

Sirius laughed. “Unfortunately, none of that,” he smirked. “Although, I’d love to see Fudge’s face if someone said he wasn’t allowed to wear another bowler hat in his life.”

Remus smiled slightly. “Fudge heard Sirius was at the Ministry and Dumbledore hinted that it might be beneficial for Fudge to reconsider – er – _certain_ past decisions.”

“About time, too,” muttered Sirius darkly. Sarah wholeheartedly agreed. Dumbledore had taken his golly-old time to clear Sirius’ name.

Mrs Weasley stepped forward and embraced first her children and then Sarah, Harry and Draco. Her movement revealed the two people standing quietly behind her, both dressed in brand-new jackets in dragon-skin leather.

“Fred!” Sarah cried, jumping into his arms when he held them open for her.

“Hey, love, I’m glad you’re okay,” he whispered into her ear. He kissed her softly and then pulled back, looking carefully into her eyes. “I heard about your dad…”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine,” Sarah assured, smiling up at him. “I’m so happy to see you. I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Fred said, kissing her again.

“I also missed you,” George added in a teasing tone. “But don’t expect me to give you the same treatment.”

Sarah pulled away from Fred far enough to punch George in the arm.

“Missed you too, you idiot,” she said fondly.

“Okay everyone,” Remus said loudly. “Let’s get going.”

Sarah said goodbye to Hermione, Luna and Neville before stepping back beside Fred and linking their fingers together. Sirius was laughing excitedly with Harry and Draco as Mrs Weasley clucked over her children, scolding them for their actions a week earlier. Remus, Moody and Tonks finally managed to get everyone moving and Sarah couldn’t help but smile at their mismatched group.

Despite Voldemort being back, despite the fact that the world was most likely going to go to shit in the next few years, Sarah felt as though a heavy blanket had been lifted off her shoulders and she could finally breathe. With one last look, she glanced back at the barrier blocking platform nine and three-quarters from sight. She smiled and turned away, walking into the afternoon with her family by her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's over :( I always get so sad when I finish uploading. Also, I just realised I'd have to write Deathly Hallows now and people die and I'm not okay with that so I'll be crying virtually all over my computer by the time I finish it. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who was been leaving kudos and commenting, I appreciate all of you so much, you lovely people! I hope you enjoyed this one, I think it's a personal favourite. 
> 
> I'll see you with the sixth one hopefully soon xxx


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